


A Royal Inconvenience

by StylishChocobutt



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, AU, Angst, Enemies to Friends, Fic canceled, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Imperial!Prompto, Prince!Prompto, Verstael is a horrible person, long build up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-10 01:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11117265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StylishChocobutt/pseuds/StylishChocobutt
Summary: AU Where Prompto is a prince of the Empire and is sent to Insomnia as part of the treaty to learn about the country under Noctis' tutelage. Unfortunately Prompto has far more sinister orders: get close to the Prince of Lucis and assassinate him, leaving Insomnia with a broken morale for the Empire to enact its invasion plans. Luckily for Noctis, Prince Prompto seems to be a typical, stuck-up Niff. Or is he?Somehow, Noctis wasn't at all surprised that the prince of Niflheim was as big a douchebag as he looked. It was a shame, really: he would have preferred to be proven wrong, but it appeared that he'd be spending his time around someone he would probably loathe sharing air with.





	1. The Two Princes

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo! So, once again this piece is a collaboration story between The_Asset6 and I! It's based off of a veeeery long roleplay, and thus the POV's will switch between characters. For this chapter, there'll be switches mainly between Prompto and Noctis.
> 
> All characters from Niflheim are written by StylishChocobutt.  
> All characters from Lucis are written by The_Asset6.
> 
> ***PLEASE NOTE: We are so sorry, but we were unable to complete this story. Please be aware that it will therefore end on a bit of a cliffhanger!

**BEFORE YOU START READING THIS: This fanfiction is not finished. And it won't ever be. I've considered orphaning it a few times, but frankly I feel that one name left attached to it is better than none. This was originally a collab piece.**

_How did this happen?_

Noctis, the crown prince of Lucis and heir to the Crystal, stared out of the Citadel's upper windows at the kingdom that would cease to be his in just a few short hours. The city of Insomnia gleamed in the light of the sun, but it was a somber luminescence. It didn't seem as bright, didn't feel as warm. The entire world had gone cold and dark even as the yellow ball of flame continued to rise and fall each day, heedless of the suffering going on below.

And they _were_ suffering. All of the lands outside the Crown City would soon be annexed by the empire of Niflheim; there was no telling what his soon-to-be former subjects would face after that. All he knew was that there would be nothing either he or his father could do about it, no matter how much they might wish differently.

The hardest part was the waiting. Waiting for the empire's representatives to arrive, waiting for the treaty to be signed, waiting for the other shoe to drop for the people who had already spent decades waging this war for them. It felt like utter betrayal, sitting here in the comfort of his home and the knowledge that he would still rule over _something_ one day while others couldn't even say whether their homes would still be there tomorrow. Maybe they'd be razed to the ground, or the occupying forces would violently persuade their owners to quarter them. Noctis couldn't think of anything _good_ coming out of this, and his dreams were increasingly plagued by the horrors that might befall the common people outside Insomnia's walls.

He knew that whatever he felt was nothing compared to his father, though. After over thirty years of a mostly successful rule, the great King Regis had been forced to make the ultimate sacrifice all so that his people didn't have to. Noctis admired that at the same time as he hated it.

What he wouldn't give to take the power he'd been granted by the Crystal and just fry those Niffs for the innocent lives they'd taken and the humiliation they'd forced on his father.

What he wouldn't give to show the emperor just how strong Lucis still was at its heart.

But he couldn't. Such was the arrangement they had negotiated with Niflheim a few days earlier. All he could do was sit and watch while his father signed most of the kingdom away. The best he could hope for was Niflheim's sincerity.

_Yeah. Like that's gonna happen._

His thoughts showed no sign of easing, and when Ignis arrived to somberly inform him that the empire's representatives had been spotted at the South Gate, Noctis could only nod in response.  
Today was the day they lost the war, but it felt like so much more than that.

Everything felt wrong. His black suit felt too big despite how it was perfectly tailored to his specific measurements; the cape with all its golden ornaments seemed to hang lopsided on his shoulders as though it, too, wanted to sink into the floor and never be seen again. Even his armored epaulets sat heavily on his shoulders like the devil and angel that both reminded him this was all necessary.

"Calm yourself, Noctis," his father's voice soothed him. Noctis glanced sideways at him and failed to hide his grimace.

"I'm calm..."

He doubted it was his imagination that conjured the smirk on the king's face. "You stand like one marching to his execution, not witnessing the beginnings of peace."

_Is that what we're calling it?_

Noctis didn't have the nerve to say such things to his father, especially not when the council and just about all of the Kingsglaive were present. Instead, he shuffled his feet in an attempt to make himself appear more at ease. It definitely didn't work given the exasperation Ignis exuded at the other side of the chamber.

As if his thoughts were broadcast for all to hear, his father finally turned to him with a compassionate yet stern gaze. "I understand. Believe me, I do."

"Then why are you doing this?" Noctis blurted out, regretting it a moment later when the king's eyes--not his father's--hardened.

"Because I recognize that although the decision may be difficult and risk much, it is the only way to bring peace to our people."

"But you don't know that for sure."

"I do not," he admitted. "Yet I have faith that our agreement is a step forward, not back. I must; as must you."

If they were anywhere else, if this were any other day, Noctis would have argued that point. What good was faith when the enemy was sitting at your doorstep with a smile on their face and possibly a dagger hidden behind their back? They had had this conversation, though, or at least one like it; the resolution was always the same.

This was the only way, like it or not.

They didn't have time to continue the conversation, which was probably for the best. At that moment, one of the guards announced that their... _guests_ had arrived and moved to open the door.

_It's showtime._

On the other side stood a gaudy display of imperial might. Or, in terms Noctis tended to agree with the people on, a bunch of sissies in white coats who hid behind their guns because actual battle was beyond them. Where Lucians were armed with the king's magic and the finest weapons ever seen in combat, Niflheim substituted talent for technology and mowed down their opposition with firearms. While impressive, it left much to be desired with regards to skill. Anyone could pull a trigger, but it took a true warrior to wield a sword.

Somehow, Noctis managed to keep those thoughts off his face as the retinue entered the audience chamber. All he had to do was think happy thoughts--Gladio kicking his ass in training, Ignis tutting at him over the mess in his chambers, his father's scrunched nose at the idea of conceding defeat--and it all just melted away.

_...Sort of._

 

 

\---

"Sit up straight, boy."

Verstael's harsh words, practically lined with acid, broke through the silence that had fallen over the envoy. Insomnia was practically alive; and not in a good way. News of the treaty had spread like wildfire and thus the streets were lined with citizens holding up signs; many of which were offensive and telling the Niffs to get the hell off of their land. Held back by armed officers, words of spite were thrown around outside by a citizenry that had been renowned for its love of the Lucian Royalty. Prompto watched from within the safety of the moving car and felt a slight sadness grip at his chest. They didn't deserve this. The lands Niflheim were going to take would only fall foul like Gralea; a city of cold and ice that rarely saw the warmth that he was looking upon right now, out of this window.

He felt sick, honestly. Straightening somewhat at Verstael's words, Prompto glanced down at his attire. As was normal of Niflheim garb, he was dressed in a long white jacket adorned with a variety of golden filigree. Underneath, more white clothing, though adorned with black fabric as well. His boots were dark, long and up to the knee. On one side of his forehead and reaching back into his hair a golden filigree half-crown rested.

He looked like a Prince. Six, he was a Prince. Even if it never felt like that.

The car slowed to a halt outside the main steps of the Citadel; an impressive building in itself. In a better mood, and perhaps not when he honestly felt like even the wind could knock him over, Prompto might have been tempted to take a photo of such beautiful architecture. Now? He merely stepped out of the car as the door was opened and pulled off the best smile he could muster. It was that, or risk Verstael yelling at him again. Emperor Aldercapt joined them from another car, with a brief curt nod to Prompto.

Waving to the semi-angered crowd below, Prompto turned his back on those gathered and began to make his way up the steps. The Citadel was just as magnificent on the inside as it was on the outside, adorned in marbles of silvers and blacks. Even the elevator was was decorated with the most beautiful embossment, and far more fancy than anything he'd seen in the Imperial Capital.

"Remember, boy. You're a Prince of the Empire. Act it. Do as you're told. And keep your damned mouth shut, unless you have something decent to say." Verstael snapped, seeming to notice the blonds brief distraction with aesthetics.

Prompto nodded, stepping out into the corridor as the elevator halted. Up ahead were the two large doors that led to the Council Audience chamber where the treaty was to be signed. Where he'd be signing his life away.

As they stepped inside, someone from the room announced them.

"Emperor Aldercapt. Commander Verstael Besithia. Prince Prompto." That final name caused murmurs. Prince Prompto had never been in the public eye until today and as gazes fell on him all he wanted to do was curl up then and there on the spot. Yet, with Verstael so close, instead he found himself plastering a rather smug smirk across his face, dipping his head slightly as his name was announced. Inside, he felt sick and wanted nothing more than to disappear. His stomach churned uncomfortably at the thought of raising his gaze to those who spoke in whispers, whispers of surprise, whispers of hate. Yet outwardly, he walked with the cockiness and smugness that was expected of him; something Verstael clearly noted as he glanced at the younger blond.

The tables lined up in the middle of the room held the Council of Lucis on one side, and the Council of Niflheim soon filled the other. Aldercapt and Prompto made their way to the furthest table where the treaty paper was led out for all to see, and the Emperor nodded curtly to the King before taking his seat. Prompto moved to stand just behind Aldercapt, letting his gaze wander to the Prince of Lucis; and as his role demanded of him, that shit-eating smirk on his face only grew.

Watching the procession in silence was possibly the hardest thing Noctis had ever been made to do in all his years of being the crown prince. To stand straight but not threateningly so, to appear pleasant but not artificially, to keep his hand away from the pommel of the sword strapped to his waist as a sign of his station more than for actual use--it was all difficult as hell when he had the prince of Niflheim sneering at him like something that lived in the Vesperpool. Even Ravus Nox Fleuret wasn't _this_ bad at first impressions.

Meanwhile, the representatives of Niflheim took their places with their raised noses in peace. Noctis had to school his expression when his father's fingers squeezed his own inconspicuously as he lowered himself into his seat at the emperor's side. There was so much contained in that one gesture--understanding, agreement, sadness, regret, warning--that Noctis felt something lodge itself in his throat. It was no secret to anyone living within the Citadel that he hadn't been on the best terms with his father in recent years, but he could still feel the latter's thoughts and emotions like a physical thing that lived in his own chest.

Neither of them liked this, and they could suffer their pain together.

"Emperor Aldercapt," the king announced in greeting, inclining his head respectfully.

"Honored guests. Welcome to Insomnia."

And so it began.

The treaty ceremony itself didn't last long. The demands, or.. well, agreements, were read out: Insomnia was to surrender all outlying lands to Niflheim yet the city would be untouched. Trade routes would be established. And then the final one, the one that had Prompto's stomach churning and Noctis livid.

Everything in the document had been expected--the land grab, the trade deals, all of it. The whole point was to end the fighting and create a partnership of sorts, all at the cost of just a few hundred miles of land. Wars had been fought over much less.

Everything in the treaty had been expected except one detail.

If it weren't for the fact that he had nothing better to do, Noctis would have missed it only to be told at a later date. Maybe that would have been better than realizing just what his role in all this would be in the middle of a crowded room with their enemies only a few feet away. He could practically see it: his father calling him to his chambers, sitting him down, and gently breaking the news to him. Noctis would lose his temper and say things he didn't mean, but his dad wouldn't utter a word. He would wait for Noctis to talk himself into silence before appealing not to his son, but to the prince. He would say that this was necessary, and Noctis would grudgingly accept the demand.

Because there was no other way he'd ever consent to being a glorified tour guide for the snarky little shit of a prince standing across from him.

That was what he was reduced to as the king's flowing script endorsed the treaty on his designated line, sealing their fates and those of their subjects--former subjects, in some cases. The clause was right there, plain as day:

 

 

_"Prince Noctis of Lucis will educate and accompany Prince Prompto of Niflheim on all subjects and events respectively inherent to the daily operations of the Lucian government, including but not limited to: matters of international and foreign relations, intelligence and security briefings, alliance protocols, economic and trade processes, public and private addresses by the throne and council, etc. Prince Noctis of Lucis will similarly be responsible for the provision and consignment of access to all classified documents to Prince Prompto within the first six months of his tenure."_

Prince Prompto was to remain in Insomnia as an asset of the Empire. Or, in simpler terms, they were leaving him behind to get a look at how the city worked from the inside.

Prompto had been angry at first; but no amount of anger would let him disobey a direct order. He was nothing but a fancied up figurehead for Niflheim; and thus they had all right to boss him around and order him as needed. Words were exchanged, before Emperor Aldercapt leaned forward to sign his name across the bottom of the treaty.

It was a small movement; but Prompto flinched as he watched his life signed away on a piece of paper.

There was an old poem Ignis had made Noctis read when he was in high school. He'd been on a mission to get him to devour more literature than comic books--to no avail--and that poem had been one of many that made their way into his book bag when he least expected it.

Although it wasn't really to his taste with the depressing content and old style, there had been one part that struck him and stayed with him years later:

"This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper."

Those words had made him think, but he'd never truly understood what they meant until the moment the signing was finished. Their world had just ended, but there was no gunfire; there were no explosions of magic or bombs or any other tool of destruction. The end had come with the scratching of pens and the rustling of paper; it commenced with rounds of applause and false camaraderie.

_Not with a bang but a whimper._

By the time the debris of their former lives settled around their feet, Noctis was alone. His father was making nice with the emperor, and the councils were mingling. Even Ignis, who Noctis would have made a beeline for, was engaged in conversation with some Niff. The only person who wasn't currently busy with pretending to like this whole thing was the other prince, who was standing in the corner with that same obnoxious smirk on full display.  
Noctis tried to ignore him. He really did.

Then his father glanced at him with a significant twitch of his lips, and the decision was taken right out of his hands.

_Shit... Well, better get used to it._

Plastering a friendly smile onto his face, Noctis approached his new best friend and nodded in greeting.

"Prince Prompto," he murmured, glad that his animosity didn't make it into his tone. That would be bad. "How are you liking Lucis so far?"

Not that he really cared, but he'd done enough of those stupid etiquette lessons to know it was the right thing to ask.

Prompto had wanted to wall-flower his way through the event, and hoped that merely remaining as un-approachable as possible would help that. Sure enough, asides from the occasional councilman or woman, most people were avoiding him. That suited him fine; any social interaction was going to have him fleeing for the nearest exit. Or table. That could work too. Though.. apparently the Astrals weren't on his side today, as he noted the Crown Prince make a bee-line across the busy hall to where he stood. Well, crap. Still, he let the familiar mask of a smirk sit on his lips and dipped his head formally in greeting to the other Prince. His tone practically dripped with sarcasm, though he made sure not to overstep any royal boundaries.

"Can't say I'm keen on the weather; prefer it colder." That was a lie. The cold, bitter bite of Gralea was absolutely mind-numbing. Lucis was a breath of fresh air, compared to that. Still. He had a personality no, a mask, to keep up. "Surprised I'm not seeing more people with tans, really."

Somehow, Noctis wasn't at all surprised that the prince of Niflheim was as big a douchebag as he looked. It was a shame, really: he would have preferred to be proven wrong, but it appeared that he'd be spending his time around someone he would probably loathe sharing air with.

For the sake of the treaty and the peace it was supposed to ensure, however, Noctis didn't rise to the bait. He nodded in patient acknowledgement, tucked his hands behind his back, and looked calmly out upon the assemblage.

"That must be the strength of the Wall at work," he remarked disinterestedly, as if that was par for the course. He wasn't quite sure that was the real reason, but it sounded good, so he would go with it. "We get the warm weather without the sunburn."

The Wall. Prompto had been educated on it; or at least, on what Niflheim knew of it, for years. A safeguard that protected Insomnia from the Empire, allowing peace and prosperity for those who resided within. However, rumours had slipped afoot that maintaining the wall was taking a toll on the King, and thus Niflheim had decided to use that to their advantage; seeking to drive a dagger in at the point of weakness.

Smiling mildly, Noctis nodded once again to the other prince and added, "I guess you'll be getting used to it with this being your new home and all." The words left a bad taste on his tongue, but he ignored it. Allowing himself to grimace at every displeasing thought would probably leave him with a permanent frown, given the circumstances.

"Lucky. The most Gralea can offer you is frost bite; so I suppose you'll be relieved that the treaty has me coming here, rather than yourself there?" Prompto cast his gaze across at the other Prince, still smirking as he spoke. "Honestly. With all those rumours from Niflheim floating around.. I must admit, I expected you to be taller."

Antagonizing the Prince probably wasn't the smartest plan, and the blond supposed deep down there was a bit of resentment there. Resentment that he'd been forced into undertaking this task; a task that made him feel sick to his stomach.

It was a _really_ good thing Gladio wasn't around right now. The idea of what his Shield would say was the only thing keeping Noctis from snapping at Prince Smart-Ass--who was the _exact same height_ , by the way. If he'd been anyone else, Noctis would have pointed out their similar statures and crafted a counter insult of equal immaturity. But this wasn't just anyone, and he wanted to win this the only way that would make his father proud--the high road.

If Gladio were here, he'd step in and glare down at Prince Pissy to remind him how tall he wasn't. If Gladio were here, he'd utter some snide comment about making sure Noctis wasn't the shortest one in the room by taking a few inches off Prince Douchecanoe's shoulders.

If Gladio were here, they would have an international incident on their hands. Maybe Master Clarus had had it right when he banned Gladio from attending on the grounds that he was _too emotionally unstable_ in the face of the impending treaty.

Still, Noctis would never admit it, but he considered it his duty to make his Shield proud. So, he shrugged a careless shoulder and snarked right on back.

"Size isn't really a good measure of someone's ability. But I'm sure that's not news to you." Noctis remarked.

"And something I'm sure you have far further experience in." Prompto replied almost instantly; not averting his gaze from the Prince as he did so. Inwardly, he wanted to be sick; -really- wanted to. Oh hell, how was he supposed to keep up such an unnatural act? He'd been reprimanded time and time again for being too casual with his words, too 'unstable' as they'd labeled him. Of course, to Niflheim, anything that didn't fit in with severely tight regulations could be labeled as that.

Behind his back, he absently clenched his hands together and briefly cast his gaze over at Verstael and Emperor Aldercapt. Neither were paying attention, but he knew better than to assume he wasn't being watched.

Humming, Noctis smiled tersely at the ridiculous comeback. Apparently, he wasn't dealing with some refined imperial politician. No, he was dealing with a five-year-old.

That made things simultaneously better and worse.

"Well, one of us has to have experience in _something_ , anyway," he shot back pleasantly. "So, thanks for the compliment."

_And I think that's about as much civility as I can manage today. Ignis would be so proud._

As a matter of fact, he caught his advisor's eye from across the room and registered that the two councils were beginning to break up. There would be more of this garbage tomorrow night, after the Niffs had gotten a welcoming tour of the city (at least the part of it that held no strategic value whatsoever because his father wasn't an idiot) and they gathered together for a formal celebration of their new arrangement. If Noctis was going to stay sane through that ordeal, he needed some space. Now.

Turning back to Prince Pettiness, Noctis inclined his head with a respectful yet perfunctory grace.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, someone's gotta do the hard work around here," he murmured, smirking.

With that, Noctis turned on his heel and swept across the audience chamber to Ignis, who was waiting for him with his standard unruffled expression. It only took a glance for him to recognize that they were leaving, and he followed along without question. Only the utmost effort saw them both safely tucked inside the privacy of the elevator before Noctis slumped against the wall with an irritated groan.

"I can't _believe_ they're making me do this."

What had been a very long day had turned into a very long night. When Noctis and Ignis returned to his chambers, it was to find an irate Gladio lounging on his sofa with a sour expression and the desire to punch any Niffs that had gotten out of line during the signing. The reassurance from Ignis that their guests had been perfect gentlemen made him snort, and Noctis couldn't stop himself from recounting his conversation with Niflheim's own Prince Shithead. None of his barbs were anything Gladio hadn't taunted Noctis about since they were kids, of course; that was probably why Noctis had been able to stomach it from the royal nightmare downstairs.

Still, Gladio was _allowed_ to say those things. Because he was _Gladio._

Prince Fartface was _not_ Gladio.

Which was probably why his Shield defied both their fathers and insisted on accompanying him the following day as the Lucian retinue escorted the Niffs around Insomnia. Noctis's father had relented on only one condition: that Ignis join them as well and keep both Noctis and Gladio in line should the need arise.

That was going to be easier said than done, Noctis realized when he discovered the seating arrangements. Something told him that being stuck in a confined space with the foreign prince and some guard named Loqi wasn't going to end well given Gladio's quick trigger.

 

 

\--

Watching Prince Noctis' back fade into the crowd of people, Prompto finally relaxed his grip from behind him, releasing the intake of breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and moved to stride towards where Emporer Aldercapt and Verstael were conversing with Lucian diplomats. The conversation was fairly neutral, though upon seeing the blond return to them, Verstael cast him a glare. Ah. That was for spending.. too much time with the Prince? _Too litte?_ Six, Prompto would give himself a headache trying to work out where he'd messed up that time.

"Boy." Verstael snapped; because, why couldn't anyone use his actual name? "Head to your chambers for now. The tour starts early tomorrow, and I expect to see you there on time. Let me just.." He glanced around the room, before settling eyes on another Commander; albeit of a lower rank. "Loqi! You'll be escorting Prince Prompto for the night."

Great. Now he really wanted to shrink into a small gap to die. With no such beautiful end in sight, Prompto merely nodded his head as Loqi approached. The Commander in question walked with the usual stuck-up Niflheim confidence that Prompto continuously failed to adopt to his own personality. It wasn’t long before the two were led out of the room and to where he supposed they'd be sleeping. Him and his.. what, guard? Loqi couldn't stand him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Citation note: A recurring theme will include the phrase, "Not with a bang but a whimper." This is a line from T.S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men."


	2. Muddy Paws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions continue to rise between the two princes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the update, folks! Thanks so much for the awesome comments on the first chapter! We love reading them :D

Sleep hadn’t been easy that night. Not in the slightest. Zegnautus Keep was hardly known for it’s soft beds and calming atmosphere and thus being exposed to such merely had Prompto on edge the moment his head hit the pillow. Insomnia was a beautiful city, absolutely stunning in comparison to Gralea and yet he was here to do what?

To ruin it.

Prompto could still recall the exact moment he’d received his orders in Gralea. It wasn’t uncommon for the prince to be summoned down to the lower depths of the Keep; royalty really didn’t hold much merit when it came to Niflheim’s politics. The only role that seemed to matter was that of the Emperor’s; something Prompto had been forced to learn at a very young age. He could recall every bit of anxiety that had flooded his veins when he’d found himself stood opposite the scientist in his office. The office itself had been filled with piles and piles of research, stacked so high that it was a miracle the piles weren’t falling down. Six, maybe they did sometimes and the crazed scientist would order a servant to clean them up. He’d hate to be that servant. Six knew what those files contained. With his hands tucked behind his back, Prompto had fidgeted awkwardly under the weight of Verstael’s steely gaze.

'You will get close to the Prince. You will earn his trust. Become his friend. And you will kill him. Those are your orders. Do you understand, boy?'

Even now, Verstael's words still rang true in his mind; a horrific reminder that he was to do exactly what the Empire wanted. This little 'freedom' they'd given him was only to establish a larger goal: kill the Prince of Lucis, and strike when the King is at his weakest.

Morning came soon enough, and with a lack of sleep Prompto pulled himself free of the overwhelmingly comfy sheets in his accommodation. No, in his new home.

Verstael was waiting for him the moment he was dressed; dressed in the Six-damned ridiculous Imperial attire that really wasn't made for a warmer climate such as the one in Lucis. Prompto was hardly surprised that people were keeping such a close eye on him, as the Empire’s entire plan came down to whether he had the guts to pull it off. If he didn't.. Well, they'd used the polite term of 'decommissioned' as a threat. Basically, deal with theprince or we'll find a convenient accident for you. Fidgeting in his long, white coat, Prompto stepped out into the hall and set his gaze uncomfortably on the shorter man. Loqi was following just behind with the usual sour expression on his face - apparently he didn't enjoy babysitting duty.

"Watch your manners today, boy." Verstael snapped as they approached, arms folded across his chest. Oh, right. That's why he'd been angry the previous night; he'd insulted the Prince and been overheard doing it. In Prompto's head, making sure he didn't befriend the Prince before killing him certainly made more sense - he'd feel less bad about doing it, right? It did slightly push against his orders, which meant he'd have to tone down the sarcasm. Easy enough.

"Uh, yeah! Sorry." Prompto nodded, lacking the usual facade whilst no Lucians were around to see. With that, they made their way down through the Citadel and out to the cars - only for his face to fall into a well acted scowl upon seeing who he'd been paired up with. Six.. The Astrals had it out for him. His gaze narrowed slightly as he approached Noctis and-.. Holy shit! Was that his Shield?! Dude, the guy was HUGE. It took all his concentration not to stare, and instead he settled for a brief nod to the Prince. 

"Morning." Smirk, don't forget the damned smirk, Prompto…

Noctis opened his mouth to reply, but apparently his Shield beat him to the punch. 

"You guys are late," he grunted in his most intimidating tone, foregoing any illusion of cordiality. 

"What can I say, it takes time to look this good." Prompto shrugged, inwardly wanting to slap himself. A pointed glare from Verstael at his words was enough to shut him up from making up any further remarks, before the elder moved to his own designated car. In reality, he'd spent the morning trying to convince himself that his churning stomach of nerves was bad enough that he could pull a convenient Prince-ly sick day. Until Loqi had dragged him out of bed with a few choice words.

If it were possible to feel someone roll their eyes, Noctis thought all of them would be sent reeling by Ignis's reaction. As it was, his advisor had perfected the art of responding without being seen, so Noctis was fairly sure he alone knew how ready to slap Gladio he was.

"What Gladiolus means is that we may need to shorten the duration of our tour today due to time constraints," he amended with every ounce of professionalism Gladio hadn't bothered packing that morning. "We wouldn't want to make you late to the festivities this evening."

Gesturing deferentially towards the waiting car, Ignis stepped aside for both princes to precede them into the vehicle. He would be driving, much to Noctis's relief; the more friends he had in the car, the better.

As soon as Noctis was settled in the back seat, however, Gladio slipped in beside him to form a human barrier between himself and the other prince, leaving the front seat to Loqi. 

Because, of course, things weren't bound to be awkward enough.

Moving to sit in the car asides Gladio, Prompto turned his gaze to the window instead of on the other Prince. As far as the blond was concerned, this day couldn't pass by quick enough - though the thoughts of evening entertainment didn't sit well with him either. He briefly glanced over the gentleman who was driving, though not in such a way to draw attention. Did everyone in Lucis look so damn perfect? Was that a rule?

Loqi moved to sit in the front seat, nodding towards Ignis though refrained from voicing anything. Seems the Commander was still in a semi-sulk.

The air was tense as Ignis started the car and joined the motorcade as it made its way out through the main gates. Their goal wasn't to show off Insomnia and make the Niffs jealous, according to the king. Instead they were taking a route meant to do two things: reinforce and rebuff. 

With Verstael in the car behind, Prompto felt himself relax a bit as the car pulled away from the Citadel. In truth, he didn't really know much about Lucian history; despite the Empires best attempts to lecture him on such. Perhaps that was why they'd paired him with the Prince - to learn from him before stabbing him in the back. The thought alone almost made him grimace, but the blond caught his own expression

As they drove through the busy streets, Noctis stared out the window at the mingled crowds of pedestrians and protesters alike and felt Gladio's presence more strongly than the arm pressed against his own. It was great that he was taking his job so seriously, and Noctis would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate it, but if this would be how daily life went from now on? He wasn't sure he could take it.

Seeming to take that as a challenge, Gladio's eyes followed Ignis's hand as the latter turned on the air conditioning. Noctis wasn't quick enough to stop his Shield before he glanced over at their companions distastefully.

"Any reason you're dressed like the Glacian invited you to dinner?"

Noctis was seriously beginning to contemplate jumping from the moving car. Knowing his luck, Gladio would catch him.

Prompto snapped out of his own thoughts just as Gladio spoke. And at the Shields words? An honest, actual smile almost touched his expression. He knew just how ridiculous he looked.

Fortunately, Ignis was prepared with a light rebuke before Prompto could respond, "Just because you see fit to walk around without a shirt does not mean the rest of us have such low inhibitions." He gestured vaguely towards his own suit, which was insulated to keep him cool in the Lucian summers just as Noctis's was, and pointedly offered, "Should you require lighter garments, we can have arrangements made when we return to the Citadel. I'm afraid the empire's climate is quite different from our own."

"Perhaps I should have timed the treaty with winter, instead?" Prompto mused, glancing briefly over at Noctis as he spoke. Were Lucian winters freezing? Summers certainly were warm.

It actually threw Noctis off a bit that the other prince's words were so benign. After yesterday, he hadn't thought that possible. Then again, they were sitting in a tight space with an irritable behemoth, grumpy goon, and Ignis; that wasn't even including the people outside who would probably have no issue with attacking the visiting Niffs if they smelled something afoot. It didn't pay to be an asshole right now, whether Loqi was any match for the others or not.

Shrugging, Noctis casually replied, "It doesn't get that cold in the winter, at least not enough to snow or anything. You could definitely use some different clothes before you melt, though."

There, see? Polite, courteous--dare he say _friendly?_ Noctis even avoided scoffing at the idea that his counterpart had any control over when the treaty was signed. Nothing could be further from the truth: they were both just puppets in this scheme, and neither could control their fate.

"I'm sure there's something packed. I'll discuss it with the Commander when we return." Prompto replied, lacking the previous sarcasm.

Which.. meant a conversation with Verstael. As much as Prompto wanted to accept the previous offer made, he doubted it would go down well with Verstael. Though.. He had managed to pack a few clothes from home that were less Imperialistic. Mainly the clothes he'd used on occasion to sneak out of the Keep in Gralea. The snow made for wonderful photo opportunities, and despite the obvious risk of losing his head if anyone found out, Prompto had made it a habit to escape his confines occasionally. He returned his gaze to the window once more after speaking, doing his best to hide the absolute awe he felt inside at watching such beautiful architecture whizz by.

Noctis nodded but bit his tongue against the retort he would have uttered with anyone else. If any of the Niffs had outfits that were at all suited to Lucian weather, he'd eat a carrot. _Five carrots._

Ignis had taught Noctis about the weather in Niflheim, among a million other things he didn't really want to know, when they'd been preparing for their representatives to arrive. It was cold and shitty and the sun almost never provided enough heat to melt the snow in places. The idea of it made Noctis shudder--who would willingly live like that? Not him, that was for sure. Ignis got on his case for staying in bed as it was, but if it were constantly cold outside, Noctis would glue the comforter in place. There was no way in hell he'd live like that. But it wasn't like his counterpart was really going to come out and say, _sure, I'm hotter than Ifrit's balls and would love a lighter outfit._ No, apparently any good Niff knew you were supposed to die of heatstroke before you ever deigned to wear foreign apparel. Duh.

Noctis didn't make any further offers and, thankfully, neither did Ignis. Gladio just folded his arms over his chest, which forced him to squeeze even closer to the door, and Noctis rested his forehead against the window to watch the city roll by.

That lasted all of five minutes before the motorcade stopped outside one of the less populated parks. There were no protesters here; they were far enough from the center of the city that the surrounding area was mostly empty. There were a few residences, but it appeared that their inhabitants had retreated inside at the prospect of a royal retinue in the neighborhood.

Putting the car into park, Ignis opened his door and announced, "We'll just be taking a quick stroll through here and then the tour will have concluded. If you'll follow us, Highness."

Noctis scrambled out of the car as soon as Ignis had his door open and breathed in the fresh, untainted air. Much as he wanted this tour to be over, he didn't mind getting some space for the time being either.

Stepping out of the car, Prompto stood just head of Loqi. He couldn't help but glance around at the park, though did his best to maintain a semi-interested expression. With the other cars behind, Prompto just about avoided cringing as Verstael joined the group just behind. Just how beautiful Lucis was would never wear off; compared to Gralea it was absolutely stunning, the way the sun practically shone off of the buildings and reflected on the ground below. Even the uncomfortable warmth was a pleasant change from Gralea's bitter cold, though the frozen city did have it's own perks as well - such as catching the snow in the mornings glinting in the early light.

"Such an extrodinary city, wouldn't you say so, Highness?" Verstael offered, directing his question over at Prompto.

"Yeah." He nodded, silently cursing the slight change in his tone; the lack of control he had on that mask around Verstael; the guy freaked him out to no end.

Cor led the way down the path, pointing out various attributes that showcased Insomnia's variable flora and fauna. 

Noctis used this time to stay as far away from the Niffs as possible in an attempt to preserve some of his limited sanity. Gladio seemed to get the picture right away and inserted himself between Noctis and everyone but Ignis, who strolled along at his side with a subtle expression of confusion.

"What's up, Specs?" Noctis asked quietly while the Niffs were distracted by something Cor was explaining. Ignis hummed, frowning.

"Prince Prompto presents quite the quandary."

It was only with the utmost amount of effort that Noctis held in his derisive snort. "What's there to get? He's a total jerk."

"In our company, perhaps," allowed Ignis, "but did you notice how he changes when Verstael enters a room?"

"Uh...no?"

Nodding, Ignis glanced over at where the prince in question was practically glued to the other Niffs and sniffed. "I would recommend you play nice until we have a better lay of the land. Perhaps you will find that not all is as it seems."

If that were the case, Noctis figured it meant that the empire was just biding its time and this whole treaty was a farce. He definitely hadn't considered that Prince _Quandary_ would be any different than the front he'd already presented, though.

But Ignis had always been smarter than Noctis, so if he said to keep an open mind, what else could he do?  
Up ahead, Prompto left most of the talking to the other Niflheim representatives, his own attention wandering to just how scenic the area was. Sure, they were probably being shown the park for other reasons, but honestly his mind was more focused on how much he wished he could grab his phone from his pocket and take a photo - though doing so would only end up with one hell of a reprimand later. Photography was hardly a becoming attribute of a Niflheim Prince. No, things like mastering weapons and agility were considered far more appropriate. He'd had training in both, though only his gunmanship was exceptional, most over attributes falling below average.

Briefly glancing back, and very briefly indeed, he noticed how Noctis, his advisor and his Shield had fallen somewhat behind. He didn't blame them. Tucking his hands behind his back once more, he tried his best to pay attention to what the Marshall was explaining; though most details really went over his head. He just about avoided jumping in surprise as Loqi stepped up behind him, arms folded and scowl still on his face - though this scowl appeared to be more towards Cor than anything. Huh, did they know each other?

It felt like an eternity before Cor ran out of things to say, and when that happened, Ignis picked up the slack a few times. Noctis tried to give him some subtle sign that he just wanted to go home and to cut it out, but he was under the impression that Ignis was actively ignoring his silent pleas.

Eventually, as the sun was beginning to descend beyond the Wall, they figured out what time it was and began to hustle everyone back to the cars. There was only about an hour before the banquet-slash-ball-slash-nightmare was due to begin, and Noctis still had to endure Ignis's fussing over his hair and suit and existence…

Needless to say, he was beyond ready to just get in the car and head back to the Citadel when he stopped dead in his tracks. No one else seemed to notice, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the feral dog gnawing on a tree branch only a few yards off. It had no collar, its fur was matted with mud, and its skin was practically hanging off its thin frame. Noctis assumed it hadn't had a real meal or bath in a long time.

That was probably why Ignis called out his name in warning just as Noctis started towards the animal.

"Just a sec, Specs!" he called back. His dad would probably read him the riot act for wandering off to see a stray dog when he should have been entertaining their _esteemed_ guests, but Noctis didn't really give a shit about that. The dog would probably treat all of them better than Niflheim anyway.

Along with the others, Prompto had started to head back to the cars though purposely lagged slightly behind Verstael and Loqi. The day had been far longer than he'd anticipated and thus it had left him both tired and hungry, both of which were probably heightened by the ongoing heat. One thing was good though: on their departure from the Citadel, he'd managed to memorise some of the route whilst trying to deter his mind from the awful car situation. He wanted to explore Insomnia, but knew full well as a Prince, he could hardly go wandering around on his own. No, he'd have to work out something smarter than that.

Behind, as Noctis approached the dog, it dog growled low in its throat to ward him off. Noctis wasn't deterred, though, and raised his hands in a harmless gesture as he knelt a few feet away. Once he was sure he wouldn't automatically be mauled, he slowly pulled a pack of peanuts he'd brought for a snack out of his jacket pocket. The dog remained wary even when Noctis tore open the package and dumped the contents on the ground, but eventually it couldn't refrain from limping forward and practically inhaling the nuts.

"There ya go," Noctis cooed, gently patting the dog's dirty head. "Good boy..."

So caught up in thoughts, Prompto had lagged back quite a bit before stopping as he noticed Prince Noctis had wandered off in an entirely unrelated direction, his advisor calling after him. For a moment, he couldn't quite see what had caught the Prince's attention, until he noted the raggedy dog up ahead. Feral, probably. Prompto ADORED dogs. Any kind, size, age. All of them were too damn cute! There weren't that many that could survive the cold of Gralea, and most were strays on the streets, but when he did get a chance he'd always go over to show them a bit of love. 

It was that thought that had him step forward, expression relaxing ever so slightly.

Until..

"Highness." Verstael remarked; the tone cold and demanding enough for Prompto to visibly flinch. He quickly recovered, slipping a small smirk back onto his lips as he turned his attention to the Commander up ahead. "We should be leaving." he continued. Prompto was well aware that was more of an order and a warning than a reminder. Nodding, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and continued up to the cars, glancing over to where the Prince was when he thought Verstael wasn't looking.

\---

Was it princely to let a big dirty dog nose around at your suit to see if you had more treats? Probably not. Did Noctis care? Nope.

Dry cleaning wouldn't be anywhere near enough to save the fine fabric by the time the dog was finished--it would take every Phoenix Down on the planet and then some, most likely--but Noctis couldn't bring himself to push the hound away. Rather, he ran his fingers through its disgusting fur and whispered the typical platitudes you used with animals who didn't get enough attention from the people who were supposed to love them.

That part never made any sense to Noctis. Animals would never let you down; they'd never lie to you or stab you in the back. They just wanted to love you. All you had to do was treat them well in return, and even if you didn't, they'd probably still act like the ground you walked on was made of treats. 

They'd never make you sign a treaty and then humiliate you besides. It just went to show that animals were infinitely superior to people.

"Noct, what on earth do you think you're doing?"

Noctis turned to shrug up at Ignis, who looked like he may have a heart attack on the spot at the state of his suit. "Nothing?"

" _Nothing_ would come at far less a cost," Ignis groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"He was hungry," Noctis replied as if that answered everything. For him, it did. "So..."

"You cannot take him with you."

"We can't just leave him here."

Ignis opened his mouth to argue, seemed to think better of it, and instead pulled out his phone. A quick call later reassured Noctis that representatives from a rescue shelter would be arriving momentarily, and he grudgingly agreed to leave before they got there.

But not before one last hug.

The upholstery of the car could handle it.

\--

Prompto had already seated himself in the waiting car whilst watching the Prince across the grass, the scene out in the park was only making his orders seem all that harder to follow. It would have been so, so much easier if the Lucian Prince was a horrible, stuck up brat-.. Much like the person he'd adopted on himself instead. Someone who deserved it. With irritation marring his expression, Prompto turned his gaze out the other window; absently biting down on the inside of his cheek. If he didn't do it, he'd-.. No, he didn't want to think of the consequences of that. Besides, he still had time to work out how he was going to get away with such a crime; the Niflheim delegate would be staying a few weeks at least, to his knowledge.

Noctis didn't allow himself to feel ashamed as he settled into his seat. It was obvious that Gladio was less than pleased that he wouldn't be getting out of this entirely unscathed, but the indulgent half-smile Noctis received for his antics didn't go unnoticed. His Shield talked a big game--always had, always would--yet he was a big softie when they got down to it. And Noctis would never say that aloud, or he had no doubt that his Shield would become a sword real quick.

Noctis didn't need the approval of some stuck up, snarky, heartless _Niff._

Prompto spoke up; smug grin ever present on his expression. "Honestly, stopped to roll in the mud?" He remarked, gesturing absently to Noctis' ruined clothing.

"Maybe you do things differently in Niflheim," Noctis began, keeping his tone light even when he injected as much venom into his gaze as possible, "but around here, we take care of our subjects. Even the four-legged ones. A little mud never hurt anyone."

It was in that moment, as Noctis turned his back on Prince Inhumane to stare contentedly out the window, that he knew Ignis had it wrong. There was no hidden persona; there was no mask. There was just a rude sack of crap who had never needed to care about anything or anyone in his life.

A part of Noctis _actually_ felt bad for him. The rest hoped the asshole would one day reap what he sowed.

For Prompto though, it was a horrible confliction: outwardly being sarcastic and rude to the Prince, when inwardly he admired Noctis' care towards the stray dog. Six, he admired a lot of things about the Prince, even down to the small details such as clearly having a friendship between his advisor and Shield. There wasn't anyone in Niflheim that Prompto had managed to warm to in particular. Occasionally the Commodore would stop by the Keep in Gralea; she made for good company in their brief conversations, but more often than not she was deployed on a mission. Prompto spent most of his days within the Keep, going through pointless studies or attending private political talks. Or worse. He absently brushed a hand against the fabric over his wrist, carefully covered by his sleeve.

Turning his attention back to the passing scenery, he didn't bother antagonising the Prince further; deciding there was only so much of a shit he could be in one evening; and they still had the stupid ball-thing to go to aswell; which he wasn't looking forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh!  
> What do you think?! :D


	3. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the evening's event in full swing, Ignis takes advantage of the situation to learn more about Niflheim's Prince; at a cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! Thanks for all the epic comments!  
> We promised you more - and here it is!

Being a Prince was one thing, but being Verstael's puppet was a whole other problem in itself. Prompto groaned as his stomach heaved, rather glad to now be in the confines of his accommodation when the feeling settled in. A feeling he was far too familiar with, to say the least. Thank the Six he'd managed to make it to the bathroom before being sick; or he'd have some awkward explaining to do, likely followed by a lecture from the Commander himself. Shakily, he'd managed to lean himself up against the cold, tiled wall as his body began to settle somewhat, though there was no miracle cure for how much paler (if even possible) his face was, nor for the newly found shake in his hands. This was partly just anxiety, he told himself. Nothing more than the impending doom of having to shoot someone in cold blood. Yet, even as he buried his head against his arms and willed the room to stop spinning, he knew it was more than that.

Prompto was hardly surprised when footsteps approached, and didn't need to look up to know it was Loqi looming over him. "Oh, come on. Get up already or we're going to be late, and neither of us need a lecture from the Commander for -that-." Came the other blonds words, lacking in any pity whatsoever. 

He blinked as he felt something shoved into one of his hands, raising his head to look as he gripped it. One of the vials from the Keep. How had-

"Don't ask how I got that. Gulp it down, get changed, and get the Six out of that door already." Loqi continued, frowning as he looked away. "Don't think of this as pity for even a moment. I just don't want to be reprimanded because Verstael's little plaything couldn't walk out the door on time."

And so, Prompto did as he was told. Just as he always did. The taste was foul, but the shakes calmed down at least; his stomach no longer feeling like he'd been stood on by a Behemoth.

Somehow he'd managed to make it to the evening’s event, though a good ten or so minutes late. That had been enough to draw Verstael's attention, and the blond narrowly avoided the avid glare he was receiving as he stepped out onto the roof terrace in which it was being held. He didn't waste much time in grabbing a glass of wine, and meandered his way over to the large tank that held centre-stage, so to speak. The large eel inside was magnificent, and reminded him somewhat of drawings he'd seen of the Leviathan- albeit probably a hundred times smaller.

Well aware that his complexion was still pale, he cautiously sipped at the wine in his hands whilst the delegates held conversations around him. Perhaps enough alcohol would put some life back into his cheeks again.

\---

One shower and a new suit later saw Noctis staring into a mirror while Ignis straightened his impossible tie. He was a bit rougher than usual, which Noctis took as indication that he was still perturbed over the dog incident, but otherwise said nothing as Noctis hurled verbal abuses on the Niff prince's character around.

"Who does he think he is, anyway? He's the guest here--not me. I don't have to prove anything to him or any of those other stuffed shirts. I swear, he acts like I'm not just as much a prince as he is. And don't even say it," he warned when Ignis looked like he might interrupt. "He's had it out for me since way before I saw that dog."

Ignis pressed his lips into a thin line but couldn't argue. They both knew that the last two days had been rough in terms of enduring the unendurable, but necessity required that they swallow it with a smile on their faces in public. In private, however, Noctis refused to censor himself. 

Once his temper had cooled somewhat, he heard Ignis clear his threat pointedly and closed his eyes. _Here it comes…_

"He does seem to have a particular knack for singling you out," his advisor admitted with a frown. 

"And for being a jerk about everything I do."

Humming, Ignis didn't argue. Instead, he took a step back to scrutinize Noctis's appearance and seemed to deem it worthy of a night out. Noctis thought maybe he wouldn't say anything else about the subject, but he was wrong.

"I recommend caution in your judgment, Noct."

It was tough to ask, "Why?" without whining it.

"There is no way of knowing what will change when the rest of the envoy returns to Niflheim," explained Ignis pensively. "We may very well witness some unexpected denouements at that time."

Noctis snorted. "I doubt it, Specs. But...I'll do the best I can," he grudgingly promised when Ignis looked ready to berate him.

That seemed to placate his advisor for now, but by the end of the night, who knew what would happen.

_Man, this sucks…_

Ten minutes later, Noctis could think of approximately eighty-two different things he would rather be doing than attending the celebration--and that wasn't even counting the two hundred seventy-three illegal ones. Yet there he was, stepping out onto the terrace flanked by Gladio and Ignis like he was walking to his execution. If he had to talk to any Niffs tonight, he probably would be.

Gladio was the one who recommended they get drinks, and they drifted towards the alcohol with Ignis's cautions in their ears as the latter strode off in the opposite direction. It wasn't really necessary: Noctis barely drank unless he was supposed to for a toast at state functions, and Gladio knew better than to impair himself when he was on the clock. The last time Noctis had gotten even slightly tipsy had led to an unfortunate encounter and a permanent scar on Gladio's face. It wasn't something Noctis was proud of, and he'd avoided alcohol ever since.

He could have used the buzz tonight, but he'd refrain for everyone else's sake. The last thing he needed was to voice his actual thoughts in front of their present company.

So, one glass of champagne would be his limit, and he sipped it slowly to make it look like he wasn't in the rush to leave that he very much was. 

"What do you think of all this?" 

Frowning, Noctis shrugged at Gladio's question and replied, "Not sure how I'm supposed to feel."

"Yeah," snorted his Shield scornfully. "It's not easy to sit here and smile when these bastards are taking everything but the kitchen sink."

"Careful, they might if they hear you."

After a quick, humorless chuckle, Gladio jerked his head pointedly. "Gonna make nice with _His Highness_ tonight?"

Noctis followed his gaze and nearly groaned aloud at the sight of Niflheim's prince over by the aquarium. He looked a little paler than when they'd been out earlier, and Noctis briefly wondered if he was getting sick from the heat before shrugging it off. If it was a problem, he wouldn't have stuck his nose up at the offer of lighter garments.

"Not if I have anything to do with it," he murmured, knocking back a little more of his drink than he probably should have. At least he was comfortable in the knowledge that he wasn't as irresponsible as certain other dignitaries, however.

"It's no problem at all," Noctis laughed casually through gritted teeth a few minutes later as he blotted the champagne from his suit with a napkin. Gladio looked ready to kill the Niff who had accidentally spilled her drink all over him. She was admittedly a little further from the sober mark than was probably smart for a political gathering, but it did seem a little out of her way to have wandered ten feet to the left just to bump into him.

 _Why am I even here right now?_ he wondered for the millionth time.

Fortunately, Gladio kept his hands to himself and the woman meandered off to rejoin the party in her spotless dress while Noctis stood there like an idiot. 

He caught his father's eye across the room, but Noctis couldn't hold his gaze--not when it was filled with regret and righteous anger on his behalf.

The suit would have to be cleaned, and there was no way he was wearing it like this for the rest of the evening, so he divested himself of the jacket and handed it off to one of the attendants to take back to his room. Ordinarily, Ignis would have recommended some quick remedy that would leave him appearing more formal than he looked in his remaining shirtsleeves, but...

"...Hey... Where's Specs?"

\--

Meanwhile, Prompto had his gaze soley fixed on the tank, watching the fish within. In all honesty, he wanted nothing more than to grab his phone from his pocket and snap a picture of the beautiful tank - yet knew for a fact the action would only attract Verstael's attention. Best not, and all that. Then again, the man in question was rather preoccupied with a group of Lucian officials, leaving Prompto finally able to act of his own free will for once. Glancing briefly around at the other denizens of the party, he made sure no one was paying particular attention - and that included Loqi, who appeared to be flirting in a corner with some assistants - the blond made his way to the edge of the gathering and thus a little more out of sight than usual.

It was rare that he actually got a chance to glance at his phone, he mused, as he pulled it free from his pocket. Mainly used to keep up to date with the news in Gralea, there hadn't been much of a need for him to have it out in the open. Flicking the screen on, and glancing once more to the crowd to check no one was watching - not that it mattered that he was taking a photo, it was more if the news got back to Verstael that the prince was acting like a child - Prompto quickly snapped a photo of the tank, looking down once it had been taken with a genuine smile on his expression, the first genuine smile since he'd gotten to the City.

Ignis hadn't _meant_ to spy on the young prince of Niflheim, per se. One of the most advantageous aspects of working in the royal household was that there was a certain level of anonymity that every attendant enjoyed. Even Ignis, advisor and chamberlain to the crown prince, was not immune. Fewer eyes were on you; your actions were less thoroughly scrutinized than those of the royal family and council members. Of course, that would likely change by the time Noctis took the throne, but Ignis found that he quite enjoyed the freedom for the time being.

It also gave him the opportunity to see what was undoubtedly meant to go unnoticed, after all. As such, his path simply happened to lead him nearby at an opportune moment, namely to see him snap a photograph of the aquarium and grin sincerely down at the image on his phone. It was perhaps the first instance Ignis could identify when Prince Prompto's expression was genuine; the smarmy smirk he frequently wore in the presence of others had a brittleness to it that Ignis doubted was deliberate. 

Which begged the question: why did he insist on treating Noct so atrociously when his heart obviously wasn't in it? 

It was that inquiry that had Ignis plucking two glasses of champagne off a passing server's tray and striding forward leisurely. He could not yet say what it was about Prince Prompto that sat ill with him--nor could he fool himself into believing that Noct would be comfortable with his own meddling--but he would find out one way or another.  
Making sure to step less lightly than usual so as not to startle the prince, Ignis sidled up beside him with the half-bow that was required in his presence. Their backs were to the rest of the party when he held out the drink and softly remarked, 

"You needn't be afraid to admire the scenery. I believe you will find that the attention would be most welcome."

_Forgive me, Noct._

The photograph was perfect, the lighting in the tank and the angle provided a stunning view of the creatures within. Prompto had made sure to adjust the aperture accordingly, and honestly grinned like a child with a birthday present; rather than the previous sarcastic smirk he'd been wearing for the last few days. The soured immediately however as he heard someone approach; quickly shoving his phone back in his pocket - though apparently too late, as the advisor had caught him in the act regardless. Glancing to his own empty glass, and then to the one offered, with a small and very much faked scowl on his lips, Prompto accepted the offered drink and placed his own glass down on a nearby table.

"Shouldn't you be watching your Prince?" Prompto replied coldly, refusing to comment on the man's words. Attention? Welcome? Hardly. Any previous genuine expression or posture had entirely slipped from his demeanor, well replaced with the previous stuck-up facade.

A quick glance over his shoulder allowed Prompto to locate where the other prince was stood; apparently having just had the contents of someone’s drink poured down him. He seemed confused for a moment as he scanned the crowd; probably looking for his advisor, Prompto deduced.

Ignis did not react to the vehement accusation at first, choosing to sip at his drink while observing their aquatic companions instead. Contrary to what this prince might think, Ignis was unswayed by royal flights of fancy. He had grown up with Noct and been by his side through thick and thin, good moods and acerbic arguments included. He would be damned if some royal from Niflheim would shake his resolve or shatter his professionalism. 

Particularly a royal who couldn't seem to decide whether he was a brat or a human being.

"I believe you'll find that Prince Noctis is quite capable of managing on his own without my constant attention," Ignis finally replied, his tone airy and uninjured. "He is unfailingly kind and expects little from his attendants. Certainly he would not begrudge me a few moments to make an honored guest feel more at home in our midst."

Well, that bit may have been stretching the truth, but Ignis refused to indicate that such was the case in either his tone or expression. With anyone else, it would have been completely correct--Noct was kind and did offer Ignis free reign to do as he pleased when he could very well have demanded otherwise by virtue of his status. The real variable here was Prince Prompto himself, an enigma the likes of which Ignis yearned to unravel if for no other reason than to ascertain what he might need to protect his charge from in the future.

Smiling patiently, Ignis inquired, "And what of yourself? I notice you are unaccompanied this evening."

"What can I say, I prefer peace and quiet; as opposed to mingling. Loqi seems pre-occupied with other guests, and as he put it 'babysitting' is hardly his forté." That was putting it politely. Although Prompto appreciated the Commanders previous help in a lapse moment, he was more than aware at just how much the other blond loathed him. There was probably a reason behind it; though he'd never had the guts to enquire. Honestly, Loqi could be just as terrifying as Verstael. Speaking of...

A glance to his right confirmed that Verstael did have his sights on him, despite the ongoing conversation around the scientist. Turning his attention swiftly back to the tank, Prompto bit back on the need to shrink further into himself mentally. He hadn't done anything wrong. He -really- hadn't. This was just paranoia. Think of something else- Think of something else- ..

"Looks, uh, rather like the Leviathan, don't you think?" Prompto managed, gesturing to the large eel within the tank- a terrible change of topic. Six, he should have just asked to be left alone. However, the question lacked the previous cold tone in his voice.

"Indeed, it does," Ignis agreed, latching onto the change of subject immediately. The prince's sidelong glance had not gone unnoticed, and a picture was starting to form in his mind. It was still indistinct, born mostly of his own unsubstantiated suspicions and little else, but a few things were becoming clear:

First, Prince Prompto was not on excellent terms with the rest of the imperial envoys.

Second, he was very uncomfortably aware of it.

Third, the image he projected on the surface was undoubtedly meant to remedy the former.

A pang of sympathy speared unbidden through his detached interest, but Ignis pushed it aside. Now was hardly the time to address his concerns. It was difficult enough to speak civilly with the prince; mentioning inconvenient truths in his presence would likely close the door to further discussion, perhaps indefinitely. As such, Ignis would need to tread carefully.

It was indeed quite fortunate that he had been trained in the art of doing just that for nearly his entire life.

"His Majesty makes it a point to honor the Six in any way he can. They have been kind to the Lucian royalty of years past, and the Crystal has been an invaluable asset in protecting our people as best we can. Perhaps it would seem a bit...flippant to say an eel could ever represent such a majestic creature as the Tidemother, but," Ignis smirked suddenly, "it comes from a genuine place."

With a glance back at the aquarium, Ignis kept his eyes fixed on the object of their conversation as he casually asked, "Are you a scholar of the Astrals?"

The only Astral Prompto was particularly familiar with was the tale of the Glacian; no doubt due to Gralea's close residence to the snowy plains. However, that didn't mean he hadn't stumbled across the occasional book in his youth describing the other five Astrals and their tales. He didn't really understand much of it, and Niflheim hardly paid attention to them either, more interested in the daemons in order to advance the Magitek infantry - both human, and not. They had the new Chancellor to thank for that one. Still, Prompto accidentally let a smile slip onto his features at the suggestion of him being a scholar of anything, really. He swiftly remedied the expression back to neutrality.

"Can't say Niflheim takes much interest in them." Prompto shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. He wished they would; it was undeniable that they existed - yet he supposed they had stronger ties to Lucis than the Empire. "I only know what I've rea- been taught."

"Quite understandable," Ignis hummed. "I suppose such things would mean significantly less within the empire."

That was one facet of the conflict that Ignis had never been able to understand: the fascination of the empire with defeating Lucis while maintaining a level of indifference regarding the Astrals. It would make a great deal more sense for the differences between the two vast nations to be based in ideological incongruity, yet Niflheim appeared to care little for the beliefs of the Lucian population. 

Regardless, the gap in Prince Prompto's education served well enough for Ignis to teach a lesson of his own.

"Perhaps you would be interested in learning more about them during your stay in Insomnia. The old legends of the Astrals are quite popular here in Lucis," he added with a small smile. He had fond memories of attempting to teach Noct about them only to find the prince less than attentive. Hopefully Prince Prompto would be more receptive.

"Take, for example, the tale of the Archaean. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, both in the metaphorical and literal sense. His sacrifice ensures that we are able to live comfortable lives, although it is said that his outward appearance would not suggest such. To address him, to even attempt to seek an audience with his greatness, would be to court his wrath. And yet, he is also described as a gentle giant, one whose language is intimidating only because it is not understood by those who meet him. A caring Astral, but a lonely and misunderstood one, as well."

The offer inwardly tore at Prompt: on one side, of course he wanted to learn more about the Astrals. Niflheim cared so little for them that information was hard to come by, despite obvious proof of the beings existences. On the other hand? He doubted the Empire would approve of him delving so far into Lucis' beliefs - the treaty had him here to learn 'strategically' and any other acts would only be considered foolish and a waste of time. Of course, the treaty was a farce. The moment the envoy left he'd be expected to-.. No, the thought alone made his already unsettled stomach shift uncomfortably. As much as the offer enticed him.. All he could think of was the reprimands from straying from his task.

Apparently those dismal thoughts alone had been enough to bring the slightest of shakes back to his hand. Finishing his drink and setting the glass down aside, he hid such by tucking both hands behind his back, finally replying to the advisor. A small smirk sat on his lips as he spoke.

"Significantly less indeed; although I appreciate the offer, my schedule is booked up enough as it is to add tall tales on top. Now.. I'd say this day has taken more out of me than I, uh, realised. I'll retire for the evening." Prompto nodded, silently cursing his slip up in tone towards the end of those words. He just wanted to escape. Somewhere quiet would be a six-send right now.

Perhaps Ignis had been a bit too blunt in drawing a comparison between the Archaean and another tight-lipped individual, but it was no matter. He doubted they would get any further this evening, especially when it seemed that Prince Prompto had strayed outside of his comfort zone as it was. So, Ignis didn't argue, nor did he react negatively to the sudden and familiar disdain the prince affected. 

"Indeed, Highness," he replied pleasantly, bowing slightly at the waist once again. "If you should change your mind, I might be able to recommend some excellent sources for your perusal. To comprehend the beliefs of our people is to comprehend our very civilization, after all. It was my understanding that such is your purpose?"

It was a question he didn't expect an answer to, nor did he provide enough time for the prince to provide one. Instead he offered one final smile and waved vaguely in the opposite direction.

"As it is, I'm afraid I've left my own prince unaccompanied quite long enough. If you'll excuse me, Highness."

Ignis took his leave, finally able to breathe a sigh of relief even as his mind whirled with possibilities. The conversation had provided him with a great deal of data, which he would put to use as soon as he could speak with Noct in private.

_Speaking of which…_

The prince was gone. Ignis scanned the crowd fastidiously, to no avail--Noct and Gladio were nowhere to be found.

_Oh, dear…_

It didn't take long for Prompto to locate Loqi in the crowd - the other blond was hopelessly flirting with one of the younger Lucian councilwoman, an act that Prompto was surprised Verstael hadn't noticed throughout the evening. Or, maybe he had and actually gave the Commander a longer leash than he gave the Prince. Still, Loqi seemed appropriately annoyed as Prompto approached, hands still tucked behind his back.

"Wha- How can I be.. of service?" Loqi nearly slipped up on his words, though bit back his distaste.

The female councilwoman had slipped away on Prompto's interruption, giving the blond a chance to drop his act. Loqi didn't care for it, never had. There was no use keeping a mask when no one was looking for it. "Uh, sorry, mind if we head back?" Prompto suggested, absently fidgeting as he did so. It earned a sigh from the other blond, but by some miracle he didn't argue.

"I'll finish my drink." Loqi gestured to the glass in question. "And then we'll go." Of course, it had to be on his terms..

Luckily, it didn't take long for the Commander to down the rest of his alcohol, and the two were soon on their way back to the accommodation. Prompto had dropped his mask entirely, hands loosely shoved into his pockets and expression slightly downcast as they walked. The conversation with the Prince's advisor was still playing through in his mind.

"Stand up straight before someone notices. Honestly, Verstael had his attention on you most of the night conversing with that Lucian advisor. Be more careful and keep to yourself, Prompto." Loqi warned as he and Prompto walked, boredom lining his tone as he glanced back at the quiet Prince. He could see the pale pallor of his skin, the slight shake to his composure when he thought no one was looking; he could see how the stuck-up brat of a Prince was no more than a hang of mess-ups, the scientist's broken toy. It was pathetic. If Loqi had been in Prompto's place, he'd at least have the backbone to stand up to the higher-ups, rather than crumpling at their feet.

Further down the corridor, Noctis knew his face was still flushed and his breathing erratic, but he was powerless to beat either into submission. It would only take so long before his absence was noticed; he needed to control himself and get back. As the prince of the hosting side--the defeated side--his place was with his father, entertaining their guests as if the world hadn't ended yesterday.

_Not with a bang but a whimper._

Still, his body was betraying him. It had no reason to, and he was well aware that the whole thing was shamefully petty, but…

They'd taken everything. The Niffs had seized almost the entire kingdom; they'd essentially purchased the Lucian people at the price of some one-sided peace. They were going to slowly but surely take control of their economy, their alliances, their freedom. All of it, if given, would only be offered at Niflheim's pleasure. 

They couldn't have Ignis too.

_Not with a bang but a whimper._

Noctis never would have expected that the sight of his advisor--his best friend--socializing with someone who had made it clear that his purpose was to make Noctis miserable would hit him so hard. They were frequently forced to interact with people they weren't on friendly terms with, and Noctis had never reacted so strongly. But after two days of grinning and bearing it, something had snapped.

It wasn't rational.

It wasn't reasonable.

It still hurt.

Not with a bang but a _whimper._

Not even the sound of approaching footsteps was enough to drag Noctis from the swirling mess of his thoughts-- _what was he doing why was he there how could he ditch us for a Niff_ \--but the tiny part of his brain that was still aware of its surroundings knew that Gladio wouldn't let anyone get near him in his distress. Even as the world crumbled around him, Noctis was safe with Gladio around.

Hell, Prompto almost walked straight into the Commander’s back as he suddenly stopped, moving to glance around at the corridor ahead; noticing Prince Noctis and his Shield. He didn't need this right now. He needed somewhere quiet, somewhere he could be alone - asides from his constant babysitter, of course. And thus, that was what led him to say: "Loqi. Keep moving." In the most authoritative tone he could muster. It was cold, and demanding.

The hand that Gladio had been awkwardly rubbing Noct's back with immediately went still when he realized they had company. Of all the goddamn times, now was probably the worst for the prince to get caught at anything less than his best. It was bad enough that he'd gotten so upset at Ignis's betrayal (which was what Gladio would call it until the prince's advisor could come up with one damn good explanation for himself), but they hadn't been able to make it back to Noct's chambers before he broke down and needed to stop. 

Gladio hadn't pressed the matter, but he had a feeling he'd be paying for it now.

Correction: he knew he would the second his least favorite prince opened his mouth.

_What I wouldn't give for just five minutes alone with that little wuss._

Noct didn't seem to register his shadow's arrival, at least not enough to react to it, so Gladio spun around to put himself between his charge and the incoming Niffs. When Noct couldn't focus, Gladio was there to do it for him--that was the duty of a sworn Shield, one Gladio would gladly die fulfilling. And it looked like he might end up doing just that, even if simply from frustration. They hadn't even gotten a little lucky: the other prince had brought his lackey.

"You heard 'im," Gladio practically growled as he straightened to his full height. "Get lost."

Prompto watched as Loqi tensed. Not from his order, but from the tone the Shield had adopted with him. Inwardly, he couldn't help but flinch, stomach quite literally doing flips by this point. Oh six, of all the people to run into. Still, as much as he couldn't stand Loqi, that previous scene of being shoved a vial earlier ran through his mind - and Prompto decided that he really, -really- wasn't about to let someone talk down to the Commander like that. Sure, the Prince thing was an act, but it was such a perfected one at times that even he believed it himself. Stepping up to Loqi's side, arms folded across his chest to hide the shake, Prompto bit down on the building fear and mustered up the courage to speak.

"Did you seriously just tell my guard to get lost?" He asked, staring up at the big guy. The really, really big guy. Hell, Loqi was swamped in comparison - though the Commander seemed just as pissed as Prompto felt. 

"I take orders from my Prince, not from a lapdog." Loqi remarked, a small smirk on his lips.

Lapdog. Only a Niff could confuse a mindless guard with the sworn Shield of the king--or future king--of Lucis. It just went to show that you didn't need class to run an empire, just balls. And Gladio was about to cut off two pairs if they pissed him off much further.

"Maybe you've forgotten, so let me remind you," Gladio began, taking a step forward. It wasn't _threatening_ , but there was definitely intent behind it. "This ain't your daemon-infested empire. We ain't your servants--either one of you. Inside the Wall, you're still stuck following our rules. Treaty says so."

Gladio didn't want to leave Noct's side, but a point needed to be made. Sometimes protecting his charge didn't necessarily mean watching over his physical safety. Within a few steps, he was towering over the royal asshole, staring down at him like the scum he was.

"You think you're a prince, but what you really are is a coward."

He didn't need to raise his voice above a murmur; the words carried a weight all their own.

Loqi had made a move to step between Prompto and Gladio, but Prompto stopped him. Gladios words rang true. Yes, he was a coward. But he wasn't about to let someone push around his Commander either. Whatever fear he'd been biting down on previously seemed to abate as he straightened to stare the Shield down. Or up, really. There was no mask on his personality now, just the need to protect the one person who'd shown him the slightest bit of kindness out of all of Niflheim.

"I am not Insomnia's slave. Or Lucis'. Do not talk down to my envoy like that again, and I'll refrain from letting mine do the same to yours." Oh god he felt like he was going to be sick. Keep it up, keep it up. "I might be a coward, but I won't be pushed around either." At least, not by the Lucian's. Verstael was a whole other matter. Niflheim was. He wasn't about to add Lucis to that list.

Gladio smirked, amused. Oh yeah, the little shit had balls, all right. It was just too bad he didn't know when was the right time to use them.

"Fair enough," Gladio agreed, making no move to retreat. "But remember this: I'm no envoy, and I don't care what some damn treaty says. I've only got one job, and that's to protect the prince, especially from Niffs. When I tell you to back the hell up, you do it."

The conversation, as far as Gladio was concerned, ended there. He didn't bother waiting to see how the little princeling would respond or whether his guard dog would start frothing at the mouth. Instead he turned on his heel and put his arm around Noct's shoulders. 

Throughout the entire exchange, the prince hadn't moved an inch except to bury his face in his hands. Whether from irritation or embarrassment was anyone's guess, but Gladio took that as their cue to make tracks. Let the partygoers wonder where Noct had gone; Ignis could make up some excuse.

And speak of the devil, Noct's advisor appeared at the other end of the corridor just as Gladio began leading the prince towards the elevator. 

Any other day, he would have reined in his anger. Any other day, he would have called threatening some Niffs a productive use of his time and left it at that. But it wasn't any other day, and this encounter never would have happened if it weren't for Ignis.

"Make sure your new friend makes it back to his room, huh, Iggy?" he lashed out venomously. The latter opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out before Gladio jammed the button for Noct's floor and the doors slid shut with a sound of finality.

Unfortunately for Prompto, Ignis wasn't the only one rounding the corner. Verstael had finished attending the celebrations for the night, and in his usual terrible timing had stepped out into the corridor towards the end of the confrontation. To say the least, it was clear he was fuming. Prompto let out a few shaky breaths once Gladio had stepped away, but those very breaths caught in his throat at the sight of the scientist. With that, any confidence he had mustered immediately slipped away, leaving nothing but instant regret and... Fear?

"What the hell was that, boy?!" Verstael demanded, crossing the distance between himself and Prince in a matter of moments.

Prompto blanched, almost taking a step back before realising doing such would only make things worse. "I just-.. He.." He gulped. "Sorry. That was my fault."

Loqi blinked in surprise, opening his mouth to object before thinking better of it.

Verstael looked ready to fume, hell, ready to strike the Prince with how angry he looked. Luckily, he settled for: "Get to your damned room. Commander, make sure he doesn't cause any more international incidents on the way." He scowled, adding a 'stupid child' under his breath for good measure.

Prompto nodded, already moving down the corridor - Loqi in tow. There was no mask, no smugness left on his expression; nothing but the real him. Frightened, lonely, pushed into a situation he really couldn't control, and hell he felt ten times more sick because of it. 

The Shield was right. He was nothing but a coward. Prompto barely even glanced at Ignis as they passed by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? :D  
> Poor Noct though, amiright? ;w;


	4. Swordplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something begins to seem off about Niflheim's prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyones still enjoying this! Things start getting super cool from here on out! :D

Any and all attempts at sleep had been met with futility. Stomach still uncomfortable and thoughts still swirling over what had happened the previous night Prompto had managed to get only a few short moments of shut-eye before his brain rudely reminded him of his screw ups. Luckily for him, Verstael was to be attending morning talks with Lucian Council members regarding border acquisition; something Prompto hadn't been included on - which was a good thing, really. He didn't exactly have a head for politics, nor was he in the mood to sit inches from the scientist knowing full well the man's rage was still directed towards him.

This did however give Prompto a chance to have the morning to himself. Well, Loqi was still in the general vicinity, but it seemed the other blond was willing to give the prince some space after getting him scolded the previous night. And where better to waste his time and organise his thoughts than the Citadel gardens. He'd seen them plenty of times in passing, yet hadn't had the time to actually relax in them. Now, sat under the shade of a tree against the grass with his phone in his hand, he idly snapped photos of the scenery ahead of him. Dressed in a short white jacket, vest, and black trousers, he flicked casually through the snaps, saving the better ones. Verstael would probably have a heart attack seeing the prince in such casual wear - but honestly, the heat was horrendous in his opinion. Luckily, he had smuggled a small set of casual clothes from Gralea; not that they'd had much of a use there.

So caught up in his photos, Prompto barely noticed as another denizen of the Citadel wandered over. A cat. It wasn't until the feline had brushed against his leg that he looked up, grin widening. "Huh? Oh, hey there buddy." With that, he reached out to pat the affectionate cat.

In Gralea, it was almost impossible to catch sight of any cats; the weather was far too cold for them, leaving dogs as the primary companions in the city. Even then, the dogs were often bred to have thick coats and a strong body. Prompto certainly welcomed the feline's company, allowing it to sit up on his lap whilst he tapped away at his phone, checking the news and his messages - not that he ever really received any. Only from the odd associate, or the Commodore. Neither of which had sent him anything. Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he plucked up stray piece of grass and dangled it just above the cat; who quickly began batting at it with its paws.

That kept the smile on his features, watching it futilely try and grab at the blade of grass with its claws, tail swishing left and right in both concentration and frustration that it wasn't winning this battle. Eventually, Prompto let the grass drop from his grass and the cat reigned victorious, looking so smug with itself that he couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, yeah, you win this one."

\---

Ignis was still reeling from the night's events hours later. Long after he'd convinced the king that Noct had fallen ill and made his excuses to the partygoers, long after he decided not to follow the prince and his aggravated Shield lest he be decapitated or defenestrated, long after he gave up on sleep as a hopeless endeavor and stared blankly out at the rising sun--Ignis berated himself for behaving so rashly. Had he genuinely believed that Noct would appreciate his intercession or simply not cared? That Noct would be irate with him had been expected, but to have upset him so deeply was something Ignis had never done before.

Perhaps the worst part about the entire situation was that Ignis felt he had learned a few things of note about their royal guest, none of which he had any illusions of being interesting whatsoever to Noct. Not if last night were any indication.

Would things have been different if Ignis had sought his blessing in the makeshift interrogation? It was very likely.

But he hadn't, and now the sun was rising with him even further from where he'd begun. Noct was distraught, Gladio was angry (never a good combination, in his experience), and the way Prince Prompto had behaved towards the end of the night gave him little confidence that their conversation would bear fruit in the near future. Not even the information he'd logged away on Verstael's reaction to the conflict was of any use, just another detail floating in the breeze.

There was no sense in dwelling on the mistakes of the prior evening, however. What was done was done, and now was the moment to concern himself with picking up the pieces of his own mess.

If that meant a subtle bribe of the prince's favorite breakfast prepared by hand... Well, Ignis couldn't sleep anyway.

Favorite breakfasts and every apology on the planet weren't enough to warm Noctis's heart again, however, not when he was physically and emotionally exhausted from the last couple of days. He was so out of it that Gladio hadn't even pushed for their usual weapons training the way he would any other day. Instead, Noctis got to sleep as late as he wanted (if he had been able to sleep, of course, which he hadn't) and woke up from a light doze to see Ignis slipping quietly into his chambers with a food-laden tray.

It looked good, but Noctis was still pissed and confused, so he didn't eat it. Much.

 

Ignis was contrite, that much was obvious. He tried explaining everything--how he'd been testing his suspicions and attempting to gain more intel on the person they were to be hosting for the foreseeable future and how he hadn't asked Noctis because he wasn't sure how it would be received and he did it anyway because he was an ass. He clearly felt sorry for all that, but not for the right reason. To Ignis, the apology was in return for making Noctis feel bad, not what he had done. It was probably stupid, but Noctis couldn't help it: he didn't want to be coddled with comfort for injured feelings. He wanted the reassurance that his oldest friend wasn't going to start hanging out with Niffs, particularly the royal kind, and that was something that Ignis was simply incapable of providing.

If Noctis had any doubt of that, it was wiped clean when he glanced over to see Ignis staring fixedly down from his window. His advisor didn't even hear him approach, which was telling, and Noctis just about lost his shit when he spotted the object of Ignis's attention.

Prince Shit-for-Brains. _Again._

He was nothing but a speck in the distance from this height, but Noctis could make him out all the same. One of the Citadel cats had wandered over to him, and Noctis didn't bother watching what happened next, turning away with a disgusted growl. After the other prince's reaction to the dog, Noctis had no reason to believe he'd be any kinder to another animal; the last thing anyone needed was for him to start an international incident over his counterpart improperly treating a stray cat. 

Ignis seemed to realize his mistake a moment later and turned to undoubtedly offer another apology, but Noctis waved it aside and shrugged on his jacket.

"If he's that interesting, Specs, why don't you go hang out with him?" he asked in as unaffected a tone as he could manage. It definitely didn't work. "Not like I need you here anyway."

Before Ignis could reply, Noctis fled his own chambers and slammed the door behind him. For some reason, he had the insatiable urge to find Gladio and beat the hell out of something. It was a good thing his Shield always had his phone on him.

"You sure about this?" Gladio was asking not ten minutes later, having gotten his text and responded immediately.

"Positive."

Noctis led the way out onto the training field, his usual wooden sword held tightly in his fist and his feet beating against the ground like he had a personal score to settle with it. Perhaps he did: what had Eos or any of the Six done for him lately? What had they done for Lucis?

They brought death and imperial occupation, shame and an unknown void laid before humanity's feet. Either the Lucian populace would survive in captivity or be cast upon the rocks of destiny to meet whatever fate had in store for them. So he could stomp all he wanted--the ground deserved it.

Noctis tried to keep those thoughts out of his head until he realized that they were the only things keeping him from spiraling into despair. Sure, they were moving towards some pseudo-peace, but all he could think of was the fight ahead. It would not take the same form; there would be no firearms or swords or elemental magic striking down thousands on some battlefield. No, the approaching war would be one of words, of games played in the darkness of political intrigue. 

Noctis had no talent for that sort of conflict. He might never be as good as Gladio, but he could wield a sword with far better mastery than his tongue. That always seemed to slip away from him.

When Gladio made to turn towards the gardens where they usually trained, Noctis pointedly jerked his chin towards the other side of the concrete path they'd followed. There was no way he'd be taking a risk on running into his annoying new shadow right now, not when he was still fuming over last night. Admirably, Gladio didn't ask.

He did, however, use Noctis's preoccupation to get the jump on him the moment they reached open space. Noctis heard more than saw him leap forward, and he only just managed to raise his sword in time to parry the lunge. His mouth fell open to make some witty remark about playing fair, but one glance at Gladio's face told him it wasn't worth the effort.

"Come on then, princess," his Shield goaded him good-naturedly. "Let's see what you can do."

Noctis jumped as Gladio swiped his sword low. It was a narrow miss, but he just avoided having his kneecaps shattered. That had happened once by accident when Gladio was teaching him how to party with little success; he wasn't keen on a repeat performance.  
The grass wasn't as fortunate, and a few blades were sheared off under the force of the sword. One thing Noctis liked about sparring with Gladio was that the latter was huge, meaning he was also slow. Every now and again that worked to his advantage. 

Diving forward, Noctis leapt over Gladio's blade as he came around again and aimed a blow straight at his neck. His Shield closed his hand around Noctis's forearm first and threw him towards the bushes like he weighed nothing. As usual.

Noctis knew what it was he wanted, though, and would have groaned in aggravation if it weren't for the ground hurtling towards him at a discomfiting rate of speed. So there was little choice but for him to throw his blade back towards Gladio, close his eyes, and reach inward to his core. Although he had been trained in how to use a lot of the magic he knew he could, warping was always the most difficult. He could feel the power pulsing deep within, resonating with the Crystal where it was hidden far above them, yet there was a barrier that kept him from perfecting his form a lot of the time.

Luck was on his side today, apparently. The weightless sensation of transporting overwhelmed him until, opening his eyes, he saw that his momentum had changed. In the blink of an eye, his hand gripped his sword again and he was sailing straight towards Gladio--

"Aurgh!"

"Dammit!"

The next thing he knew, Noctis was tangled up with his Shield in a mess of limbs. They'd both hit the ground hard, and every inhale was a battle all its own.

 

Okay, so maybe he could have stuck the landing a bit better...

\---

It was the clash of wood on wood that brought Prompto back to his senses. Huh? Had he actually managed to doze off? Apparently so, though his feline companion was still sprawled out across his lap. Ever since he'd arrived in Lucis, it had felt like something was tugging at his energy - an internal feeling, barely noticeable most of the time. Apparently whatever it was, was enough to have the prince accidentally slumbering under a tree. It hadn't been long; a few minutes at best, but he mentally reminded himself that doing so again would only have him the bad luck of Verstael or someone walking passed. Luckily, he doubted Loqi cared much. The Commander was still a short distance away, close enough to watch yet far enough away to give the prince some peace, his attention solely on his phone for the moment. If he'd heard the noise, he didn't care for it.

As much as he wanted to rid himself of the cat to go investigate, the feline was determined. After some scuffling and pushing, it finally relented and moved over onto the grass as Prompto pushed himself to his feet, edging his way towards the source of the noise. It didn't take long to see what it was; able to spot Prince Noctis and his Shield on the other side of the garden. Prompto wasn't about to antagonise the big guy further, and instead hung back and leant against a tree to watch; the cat fussing around his ankles.

It always fascinated Prompto at just how different Niflheim and Lucis' idea of weapons were. Lucis was known for it's adaptability over a variety: swords, daggers, elemancy, bows, and the like. Yet Niflheim believed power resided less in the strength of the wielder and more in the strength of the weapon; relying on guns and mech to win their wars. If it caused large damage or exploded, then you could guarantee a Niff made it. As such, Prompto's instruction in weapons had been primarily focused around firearms - which he was a damned good shot with, to say the least. Hand him a sniper rifle, and he could drop a target from over two hundred metres away. Even with a smaller handgun, he was nimble and quick on his feet, often making him a target for even sword wielders. Hand-to-hand combat had never been his forté, yet he also had training in it.

And all that training had led to one thing: kill the Prince of Lucis and bring Insomnia to it's knees. An order he couldn't disobey, lest he risk 'de-commission'. Even his status of prince wouldn't get him out of that one. He was disposable, and he knew it all too well. Yet, there was no one he could turn to either, not like the Prince ahead of him currently sparring with his Shield. He had advisors who didn't sneak around behind his back, friends who he could confide him. Prompto couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy for that.

Watching the Prince misjudge his warp, crashing and knocking the Shield down, Prompto observed with genuine interest; as much as he tried to not let that show on his expression.

"Again," Gladio grunted. He shoved Noctis off of him and was back on his feet much faster than anyone his size should be capable of doing, and Noctis almost envied him.

 _Almost_ because if he were like that, Gladio would go harder on him. He wasn't exactly pushing for that, if he was being honest.

There was no way he'd be giving up so easily today, however, when the sparring was finally beginning to thin some of the aggravation that ran thick in his veins recently. As their swords met again and again, Noctis could lose himself to the rhythm of the fight.  
Dodge. Parry. Strike. Kick. Roll. Charge. Dodge. Parry. Strike.

On and on it went until Noctis barely had to think about it anymore. After all these years of training and yelling and goading and gloating, his muscles could work through the motions almost of their own volition. Noctis could disappear for a while then; he could be anyone. Crownsguard, Kingsglaive, talented street performer--it didn't matter. All that existed were the two of them and the deadly dance of blades.

Until his station came toppling down right on top of his head again.

Noctis didn't realize what had happened until long after Gladio's wooden sword sliced through the air. All he knew was that the skin of his back lit up as though it had been set on fire, and he was panting on the ground. When he came to himself once more, he opened his eyes and saw Gladio through his unbidden tears, his Shield's face both grim and panicked at the same time.

"Noct? You okay?"

No, he wasn't okay. He was in agony and curled in on himself as he tried to fight off the memories of another sword, another opponent, another life where daemons could get through the Wall and his father had time to spare for him.

Where Ignis had been a constant at his side, and there were no Niffs in sight.

That place didn't exist anymore, though. He'd told himself that for years when the nightmares grew unbearable and he was too old to expect anyone else's reassurances. So Noctis tried to swallow the memories with the bile, ignoring his Shield's hand as he staggered upright. There was sweat rolling down his neck that had nothing to do with the exercise, and he felt cold even though the day was already growing hot.

But when Gladio opened his mouth, probably to say they should take a break or call it quits or anything else that would force Noctis back into the mess that had become his life, he interrupted before the words could fully form.

"Again, Gladio."

"...Noct."

"Again."

There was something about the way the Noctis stumbled over from the attack that briefly reminded Prompto of himself; a time long back, before he'd had the 'luxuries' of the Keep, or status. Training in Gralea often had them pitted against MT units - because why waste the manpower on training regimes when they could use the machines? Unfortunately, MT units struck far harder than the human hand and on more than one occasion he'd been thrown to the ground, choking and unable to push the beastly machine free from him. They weren't programmed to kill, but that didn't mean they couldn't do harm. Prompto flinched at the memory, shaking it away before re-focusing on the fight.

The fact Noctis refused to give up certainly surprised him. He was rather glad the Prince and his Shield hadn't yet spotted him stood a short distance away; but apparently fate had other ideas as the cat he'd accidentally neglected to pay attention to opened it's mouth and started meowing. No mask nor act on his expression, he practically jumped in surprise before crouching to fuss the animal - sheepishly, at that - knowing full well if he looked up from the feline, there was a chance he'd been spotted by now.

Noctis was mere steps away from his next riposte when he heard the sound of a cat and froze up. It wasn't unheard of for the felines that roamed the grounds to wander into the training yard; trying to keep a cat from doing _anything_ was generally a waste of time, and the Crownsguard had better things to do than chase them around. Still, he didn't need to look to know that this wasn't one of those times. 

It was, in fact, quite the opposite.

The way Gladio stiffened and took half a step in front of him told Noctis everything he needed to know. He turned anyway, his eyes widening in dismay when he spotted the other prince hastily shushing his feline companion as if that might hide his presence. Ordinarily, Noctis would have brushed him off and gone right back to finishing what he'd started, which appeared to be what his counterpart wanted. A few thoughts occurred to him that kept that from being an option:

Niflheim's prince had been watching their training session.

He probably had enough information about both their fighting techniques to be a potential threat.

And he had seen Noctis's brief but unavoidable panic attack.

If Gladio's guard dog routine said anything, it was that he realized the same thing.

Well, crap. The moment Prompto raised his violet gaze from the cat to the pair across the small stretch of grass, he knew immediately what would be running through their minds. Still, he didn't have enough effort to shove back on his cocky persona; not after the confrontation of the previous evening, and instead stood up - despite the cat's immediate return to meowing for attention. Clearly he'd made a friend. A loud one. Well, that raised his total friend count to one. Better than yesterday. Shifting awkwardly on his footing under the glare of Shield, and Noctis, Prompto did the one thing that came to mind.

The one, least cocky, least princely thing that came to mind. Something he'd probably regret later.

He waved. Apologetically, at that. Mainly for interrupting them.

Noctis exchanged a wary glance with Gladio, who looked just as perplexed as he felt. Given their interactions over the last couple of days, Noctis would absolutely have expected any other reaction from the imperial prince than what they got. A nose to the sky, a conceited smirk, maybe even a well placed barb about how inept Noctis was compared to so-called real warriors--any of it was more like him than the awkward expression he wore.

_Probably just ticked that he got caught before he could see more._

The thought didn't sit right, not when Ignis's voice in his head was telling him about masks and unanticipated denouements and all that crap. Noctis wasn't about to let everything else slide, though; Prince... Prompto had been a royal jackass, and one off day didn't assuage Noctis's reservations about his character.

Gladio apparently felt the same, because his face sprouted the smirk Noctis had recognized for years as meaning trouble, and he hefted his sword up to rest across his shoulders.

"You any good with a sword?" he called over to their royal spy. 

_Dammit._

Prompto blinked, entirely caught off guard by the question. He'd expected them to tell him to leave; not to ask that. Sure, he'd had training in most basic weapons, swords included, but his proficiency in them.. Well, that was something that Verstael had dubbed 'far below average' with a scowl. In a tight situation, he supposed he could probably defend himself with one, but nothing felt better than the steel of a gun in his hand. Nothing felt more natural than that.

"Uh, pretty bad actually. Not sure if you've noticed, but Niflheim's not exactly known for their swordplay." Prompto replied; lacking the usual sarcasm. If anything, his tone was nothing but awkward lined with tension. Shoving his hands in his pockets - mainly so he could grip the material from within the avoid fidgeting - he wandered across the grass to the two - though kept a small distance still.

That threw Noctis off; this was like talking to an entirely different person. This... _Prompto_ seemed shy and uncomfortable in his own skin, but that just didn't jive with every other thing he'd ever done. Was this all a game? Was he trying to keep them from suspecting him of some treachery? Had he adopted this facade to reel in Ignis only to now try the same thing with them? Did he think he could tempt Gladio away from Noctis's side the way he had with Noctis's advisor?

So many questions, but not one answer. That was all they ever got with the Niffs, and it didn't seem like that was going to change anytime soon.

Noctis felt inordinately comforted when Gladio's cautious yet casual stance didn't waver for an instant. Even in the face of such alien behavior, he didn't drop his shields an inch. If anything, Prompto's unfamiliar demeanor seemed to set him more on edge.

That, however, didn't stop him from snorting, "Yeah, well, there's a first time for everything. Here, you can use mine. Noct'll go easy on ya."

They...probably should have discussed this before Gladio offered his sword to Prompto with a grin. Noctis couldn't figure out whether his Shield wanted to hand him the opportunity to humiliate his rival or just the excuse to use the object of all their frustrations for target practice. Whatever his goal, one thing was certain:

_This was a test._

Oh no. No no no no _no_. Prompto really didn't want to take that sword; and hell, it took every mental inch of strength avoid letting that show on his expression. He was about to get his butt handed to him by the Prince of Lucis - that much was certain. There didn't seem to be much of a say in it though - he briefly debated being cocky and remarking that it wasn't worth the effort, but he'd already angered the Shield once and didn't fancy going a second round. So, despite how much he didn't want to, Prompto took the sword from Gladiolus.

"Seriously, I wasn't kidding about being bad." He offered; not that it was going to help the situation. Not to mention, exhaustion was still pulling at the back of his senses. Stepping slightly back from Noctis, he gripped the practice sword in hand.

Noctis could already imagine Ignis's reaction when one or the both of them showed up to their next appearance with the shit kicked out of them. It wasn't enough to keep him from taking up a defensive stance the second Gladio shoved the hilt of his sword into Prompto's hand, but he could still see it. His counterpart appeared just as wary as he was, and they stood staring at each other for a long moment. 

Well, a better word might have been _terrified._ If he wasn't the prince of Niflheim, Noctis got the feeling that he would have run away the second he'd been discovered watching. That was the _only_ reason Noctis decided to go easy on him. 

So easy, in fact, that he telegraphed his first few swings thoroughly enough for Gladio to roll his eyes.

It had been a good few years since Prompto had been forced to wield a sword, yet the weight was familiar enough. One thing was in his favour: agility. Prompto had always been praised on his maneuverability during practice, which meant as Noctis raised his sword and swung, he parried the first two with relative ease - able to read the Prince's intentions before he swung, though that was probably the 'going easy' part the Shield had mentioned, before side-stepping the final swing and aiming a attack for Noctis' side; with a surprising amount of swiftness. 

What the attack lacked was strength, but he was making up for it in speed.

Although Noctis preferred Gladio's method of testing Prompto to Ignis's more underhanded version, he had to admit that it was getting boring. Prompto blocked his swings with relative ease every time, which was good for him but agonizing for Noctis. What was the point of this? Maybe Gladio planned to get a little bit of intel on what kind of threat Prompto might pose in combat--answer: nowhere near as much as his bodyguard--or perhaps he just liked watching Niffs squirm. Either was just as likely as the other, really.

The game ended abruptly, however, when Prompto's arm swung around and his sword shot under Noctis's elbow. The move was unpolished at best and lacked a great deal of force, but Noctis still reacted as if it were a serious threat. Call him crazy, but it didn't do to trust Niffs with weapons even if they were fake.

Noctis jerked to the side, hoping to narrowly avoid a direct hit and endure the slight bruising a graze would leave. Instead he got a little more than he was bargaining for.

Because that sensation he felt when he warped suddenly grabbed the bottom of his stomach and yanked. It was like he'd gotten stuck in the middle of a warp, and his body moved even though he couldn't feel anything anymore--not the ground beneath his feet, the sword in his hand, or even his sweaty black T-shirt and training shorts. For that one second, he blinked out of existence and ceased to be.

And then, just as suddenly, he stumbled back into being and toppled onto his knees, retching into the grass as his body finally decided that nope, it didn't like that. It didn't like whatever had just happened one bit.

Prompto's practice sword didn't collide with the Prince as he blinked out of existence for a moment; similar to what he had already witnessed of the Prince's abilities, though Noctis' reaction afterwards was nothing like the cool shrug-off from before. No, whatever he'd done this time had clearly been unexpected, leaving the Prince looking far worse for wear - Prompto immediately ceasing any further attempt of an attack. Not that he wanted to do that anyway. Hell, he just wanted to curl up in a corner and cease to exist. Everything he did only made matters worse around here.

"You oka-?" He started, though didn't dare step forward. It didn't matter though; his sentence was cut off by an all too familiar voice.

"Your Highness!" Verstael's voice cut through the air like a knife. Despite the formal address, it lacked any respect; more like a man calling his dog. Clearly the meeting had ended, as the man in question was stood on the stone path a short distance off; Loqi stood just behind. He took one look at Prompto - at the current situation, and the Prince's choice of clothes, and if it was possible - his scowl only deepened.

Prompto on the other hand, for a split moment whilst his back was to the scientist and front to Gladiolus and Noctis, paled significantly. There was a mixture of shock and dread on his expression in that instant; his grip on the wooden sword tightening to the point where his knuckles whitened.

And suddenly..

He put on his usual farce. His grip relaxed, as did his expression, and took on the previous 'Niff Prince' act. Offering the blade back to Gladiolus, he hoped to Eos that his act was enough to hide the slight shake to his hands, or that neither of the two had noticed him freak the moment he'd heard Verstael.

Noctis knew that tone the moment he heard Verstael speak. He usually wasn't on the receiving end of it, but he'd heard it enough amongst the Crownsguard to recognize it: that was the sound of a superior wiping their feet all over someone just because they thought they were better. That was the sound of every one of Noctis's nightmares and insecurities made real, the one he heard every time his traitorous mind wondered if he was the real reason his father could never seem to find the time to be there. 

It lit a cold fire in his very soul, and he wasn't really thinking as he scrambled unsteadily back onto trembling legs with no small degree of help from Gladio. Knee-jerk reactions notwithstanding, he hated the idea of hearing other people deal with the same and insinuated himself between Prompto and Verstael.

"My apologies," he murmured, ignoring his still tangible nausea to smile up at the researcher. The guy gave him the creeps. "My Shield and I were training and invited Prince Prompto to join us. It's...not really the kind of activity to waste fine clothes on," Noctis added with a nervous chuckle when he noticed Verstael's eyes darting between him and what Prompto was wearing.

_Yeah, total creep._

Verstael's gaze only narrowed further as he looked between the two of them. With a scowl on his face he turned his attention back to Prompto. "If you have time to be fooling around in the mud, then you have time to attend to your studies, boy." His voice was just as sharp and patronising as ever. Still, be glanced to Noctis and nodded. "We appreciate the hospitality you extend, of course." Yeah, right, trust him to try and be polite towards the other Prince.

Prompto was still somewhat rooted in place, though now facing Verstael with the usual stuck-up-shit persona, he shrugged. "Guess that's my cue to leave. I'll be nice and not consider that round a win." He smirked, glancing to Noctis. None of his expression held authenticity though; it was strained and his voice failed to hold the tone effectively. He was thankful to the Prince for stepping in, but admitting such here would only make matters worse.

"Come along, boy." Verstael added, waiting. With a brief nod to the two, and returning the practice blade, Prompto crossed the grass to where the others stood.

"The last thing we need is the Lucian's realising our Prince cannot even hold a blade better than a child." Verstael started, once they were clear of the Prince and his Shield. Luckily there wasn't an escort with them this time; though Prompto had no doubt they were probably being watched somehow. Striding alongside Verstael, he had both hands stuffed in his pockets with his fists clenched far too much for comfort. Anything to get his mind off of the lecture he was about to receive.

He almost kept walking as the scientist suddenly stopped, snapping out of his internal thoughts almost immediately. Verstael had his arms folded across his chest, the usual disappointed expression tainting his features. "Need I remind you, you are replaceable. Do not forget that."

"I uh, haven't." Prompto stammered, facade falling slightly. Royalty meant nothing; he was just as disposable as an MT unit.

"Return to your room and change. There is a meeting this afternoon regarding trade routes in the wake of the treaty. You will attend, and you will learn." The scientist reminded; not that Prompto needed it. He was well aware he'd have to spend the rest of the day in the council chambers, listening to the Lucians and Niffs discuss things that honestly went way over his head. He'd never been one for politics, to say the least. Still, he nodded, and Verstael turned to leave. Loqi remained, as usual.

\---

To his credit, Gladio waited until the others were well out of earshot before mumbling, "The hell was that all about?"

"Got me," Noctis shrugged, spearing his sword into the grass and sitting. The world had stopped spinning, but he had that awkward lightheaded feeling that could mean he needed a drink or to throw up--there was nothing in between.

A bottle of water was pressed into his hand almost before the thought occurred to him, and he nodded his thanks as Gladio took a seat beside him. 

"Kid's fast, but he sucks in hand-to-hand," he analyzed pensively. "Doesn't know where to put his feet, either. You could'a knocked him on his ass five times."

Groaning, Noctis downed half the water in one go and shot back, "You said to go easy on him."

" _Easy_ , not act like you're fighting a twelve-year-old."

"Hey, when _I_ was twelve, you beat the hell out of me."

Gladio shrugged unrepentantly. "That's different."

"Oh?" Noctis raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And how's that?"

"My job isn't to coddle you. It's to make sure you know how to protect yourself if anything ever happened where I couldn't do it. I had to go pretty rough, but you survived."

"Yeah, barely," he snorted. Gladio punched his arm; Noctis pretended it didn't hurt.

"Surviving's surviving. And hey, at least chocobutt-hair over there helped you figure out how to phase. Not bad."

...There was so much there for Noctis to comment on--the hair, for one, but also what the hell _phasing_ was and why it had to play ball with his stomach--but he didn't bother. The mention of the other prince brought something else to the fore, and he frowned in the direction the Niffs had taken.

"Something's definitely up there."

Gladio hummed, not needing to ask what he meant. "That's one way of putting it."

"Still don't trust the guy, though."

"Good. I trained you better than that."


	5. Under The Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meetings are boring at the best of times, but they do provide good opportunities for the two princes to be a bit sneaky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, things continue to get tense! :D Let us know what you think at the end of the chapter! We love hearing your theories ~

When Noctis returned to his chambers to prepare for a day of boring meetings, it was to find Ignis laying out one of his suits with an absolutely miserable sort of air. He tried to hide it as soon as he realized Noctis was there, but it was too late; the tension was too thick to be normal, and playing it off as nothing would be an insult to both of them. Besides, Noctis had a new appreciation for why Ignis had done what he had, even if he still didn't like it.

"I'm sorry, Noct."

Those were the first words out of his mouth, and they made Noctis cringe. His eyes immediately fell to the floor. "I know."

Ignis was Ignis, so he obviously sensed Noctis's discomfort, but that didn't dissuade him. Instead he took a step forward as he emphatically continued, "I should have considered your opinion on the matter before I acted in my own interests and realized the appearance my behavior may have invoked."

Typical Ignis, using a bunch of big words to say, _sorry I was an asshole._

"In the future, I shall keep my distance from Niflheim's envoys unless necessity dictates otherwise."

That was where Noctis had to stop him.

"No."

"No...?" Ignis frowned, perplexed at his answer. Sighing, Noctis approached him and raised a hand to squeeze his right shoulder. Eye contact was harder, though, so he continued staring at the carpet like it might offer up a few answers.

"I mean, _no,_ you don't have to stay away. In fact, it might be a good idea to get a little closer."

He didn't need to see Ignis's face to know the latter was shocked at his sudden about-face on the matter. The stiffening of his shoulder beneath Noctis's hand was more than enough.

"I...am not entirely sure I understand."

Sighing, Noctis recounted what had happened in the training yard that morning and the unease it had left him and Gladio feeling. Thankfully, Ignis dispensed with the I told you sos and skipped straight to the baffled intrigue.

"It would appear royalty is not as highly valued in the empire."

"Then what's the point of having it?" huffed Noctis, collapsing on his bed only to shuffle sideways when Ignis glared at his proximity to his pristine suit. "Why throw him at me to teach if they don't really care about him anyway?"

Ignis hesitated, his expression dour. "Perhaps he is here to serve another purpose, one less befitting the traditional duties of his station."

Noctis frowned. There were plenty of responsibilities that came with being a prince, some less pleasant than others, but he couldn't imagine what the empire thought that entailed or how expendable it made their royals. Unlike Lucis, where they had a monarch and council, there were so many different leaders in Niflheim that Noctis couldn't keep them all straight. Did any of them _really_ have much power over the others, or were they all just vying for superiority in a mad, archaic race to the top?

And was that what Prompto wanted or just what he was meant to _deliver?_

"And...what purpose do you think that might be?" he inquired hesitantly. Ignis's expression darkened.

"I don't know," he admitted, "but I'm going to find out."

 

* * *

 

Returning to his room, Prompto was rather glad that Loqi refrained from questioning him on his brief absence, or on his interactions with Prince Noctis. Despite the Commander's often rude and disinterested persona, Prompto was more than aware that the two of them were in very similar positions. Both young and holding positions that were honestly well above their heads; it was like constantly being on the verge of drowning, only just able to keep their heads above the waves of Niflheim. He was even more relieved when the Commander informed him that he would wait outside the room for Prompto to change and recover from Verstael's bitter words.

The first thing he did was shower. Despite how short their spar had been, the heat alone had left him craving one. The lack of vials from Niflheim left his body achy, and him mentally exhausted after even the smallest of activities. He knew that it was merely a case of lessening the use of the vials, weening himself off of them - but doing so in a City where such concoctions didn't exist was a whole other problem. Once showered, he changed into a vest and jeans - with an hour to go before the meeting, Prompto had no intention of wearing the Imperial uniform until he really needed to.

That left him sat on the end of his bed, practically glaring down at the slight shake to his hands. It wasn't obvious to anyone who wasn't looking for it, but over the day it had worsened. He briefly considered requesting Loqi's aid again; but he doubted it was easy for the Commander to come across those vials in Insomnia - how the hell he'd managed it in the first place, Prompto had no clue.

It took a while for him to get his thoughts together, hands still clenched in front of him as he glared down at the floor. Eventually, Prompto moved to get changed into the typical Imperial wear, absently tugging at his collar. The clothing was suffocating, to say the least. Consisting of the long, white coat and dark trousers beneath, he finally stepped out of his room into the hallway where Loqi waited.

"All good?" The other blond asked, glancing Prompto up and down briefly.

"Guess as good as I'll ever be." Prompto chuckled, sheepishly at that. There was no point acting around the Commander anymore.

 

* * *

 

There was no time for this. There _really_ wasn't.

That didn't keep Noctis from stumbling over the idea that had come to him during his hurried shower. Nothing, not even Ignis's insistent nagging that they would be late if he continued to dawdle, was enough to pry him from his thoughts. Eventually, Ignis took over for him with an exasperated huff and proceeded to style Noctis's hair while the latter stared blankly at his reflection.

Their earlier conversation had left him feeling off kilter, as though something was hanging over his head that he could neither identify nor stop when it finally decided to drop. So many questions... How were they supposed to get the answers? And when they did, would they be as harmless as the treaty said they'd be, or was there something else--something sinister that was just waiting for them to let their guard down for an instant?

If that happened, Noctis didn't know what would become of them all. Insomnia was strong, but there was no way they'd be able to withstand the might of the empire once the latter was able to reinforce itself with former Lucian subjects. They had the Crystal, yes, and the Ring of the Lucii, but that wouldn't be enough. It hadn't been enough to win the war in the first place.

That was when the idea had first attacked him. It was something he knew was dangerous, potentially even deadly for those involved, and it had never been done in recorded history. But it might just work, and it could be their only chance if things turned sour. That had to make it worth the risk, right?

So, closing his eyes against the familiar tugging at his hair, he took a deep breath and said the words before he could think better of them.

"Ignis, I need you to do something for me."

There was a pause, as if Ignis could sense his dread. "Of course, Highness."

_No going back now…_

 

* * *

 

Later that evening, the council chamber was already packed full of dignitaries by the time they joined Gladio at the door and made their way inside. Noctis could feel that sick sensation beginning to claw at his throat again, just as it had when they'd stood in this same room two days ago to sign their kingdom away. He doubted it was a reaction that would fade anytime soon.

A few eyes turned to him as he wandered through the crowd towards his seat. Although the Lucian council members nodded deeply or bowed to him, it was glaringly obvious that the imperial envoys considered doing so to be demeaning to the point of dishonor. They wouldn't want to lead anyone to believe that they could be _respectful_ , after all. Noctis wasn't bothered by their willful disregard for human decency, however; he had come to expect nothing less.

At some point, Ignis muttered a quick excuse and broke off from their small group, disappearing into the crowd. It wasn't until Noctis and Gladio reached their designated spots beside the king's still empty seat that Noctis saw him again, speaking in hushed tones with his father's chamberlain. The latter was nodding, a confused frown on his face, and answered swiftly before sweeping from the room. When Ignis glanced up to see Noctis watching him, he nodded minutely.

Well. There was one thing settled.

Now he just had to make it through the rest of the proceedings without wearing a hole in the marble floor where his foot tapped impatiently against it. Fidgeting wasn't considered princely behavior, but given the circumstances, Noctis figured Ignis might refrain from commenting just this once.

Verstael was nowhere in sight as Loqi and Prompto entered the council chamber: something the blond was grateful for. Other Niflheim dignitaries were there, and their gazes were certainly on him - not that Prompto let the immediate discomfort of such appear on his expression. A soft smirk sat on his lips, hands tucked neatly behind his back as he made his way to the seats aside where Emperor Aldercapt would soon be sat; though it appeared even he was running late. Loqi stood just behind where Prompto now sat, briefly leaning down to murmur something to the Prince; who only nodded in response. Whatever had been said, however, clearly set a slight tension to his posture and jaw; yet still he refused to let that smug expression slip from his lips.

Soon enough, Aldercapt entered the room followed by Verstael in tow. The man offered a brief and over-exaggerated wave to those gathered whilst the scientist behind kept his expression stern. Prompto did his best to avoid eye-contact after the earlier threat. He just wanted this meeting to be over with quickly.

Everyone began to settle into their seats once the emperor arrived, but the talking continued. Only the king's presence would signify the beginning of the meeting, and he was apparently going to be more than just fashionably late. Noctis was positive that it was his own fault, but he also refused to feel guilty about it. They had spent weeks working on the empire's schedule in all things--the time of the signing, the nature of their accommodations, the length of their stay. Now it was their turn to wait.

Another few minutes passed before the doors opened one final time and his father entered the room, standing tall despite his cane and looking every bit as regal as a monarch despite the ongoing circumstances. Noctis couldn't help admiring him for that even as the residual bitterness of their plight kept his stomach roiling with indignation.

All fell silent as he strode calmly and unapologetically to his own seat, offering a nod or small smile to some along the way. Surprisingly, he didn't stop there when he reached where Noctis stood waiting with the rest of the Citadel's highest ranks. No, for the first time since he was a child, his father clapped a hand on his shoulder and let it linger in a way that would seem paternal to most but significant only to them. Noctis never would have thought he could form a genuine smile in this room surrounded by these people, but his lips turned up nonetheless. With a gentle squeeze, his father trailed his wrinkling fingers down the arm of Noctis's jacket and took his seat, the rest of the assemblage following suit.

The games had officially resumed.

The meeting was as hard to follow as Prompto had expected it to be; unable to keep up with the terms being thrown between Niflheim and Lucis. For the most part, Niflheim seemed to have the upperhand on negotiations - as of course, with the treaty signed they now controlled far more land than Lucis did; limited to only a capital City. Unfortunately, that left Insomnia in the hands of the Empire when it came to determining trade routes. Every now and again Loqi would lean forward to elaborate or explain a point being made, something Prompto was incredibly grateful for, but ultimately he was totally lost as to what was going on. Of course, that didn't show in his expression - keeping himself at least looking attentive whilst his thoughts wandered elsewhere.

Niflheim had set their date to leave; leaving Prompto and Loqi in the capital. Unfortunately, even that was temporary - only until Prompto completed his orders. Once the Emperor was clear of the city, he was to act before rejoining with the Empire outside of Insomnia, though he had no clue how that was supposed to work, before the City was to be ravaged by Imperial airships.

One week.

One week, and he'd be expected to deliver on his orders, or face the consequences. Those consequences were death, or worse. The thought alone was enough to make him cringe briefly, before returning his attention back to the meeting at hand; which appeared to be drawing to a close.

For Noctis, however, this was the kind of event that usually put him to sleep. He held no voice in these negotiations since he didn't really have any authority over international agreements yet, but his father still inquired about his opinion now and again as though he did. When Noctis was young, it had been more of an ironic sort of exchange, where the council would smile and titter at what they felt was an adorable answer rather than a real possibility. Noctis had never quite understood what made his opinions less valid, less likely to work; they were simpler, sure, but sometimes politics were too convoluted to function anyway.

Today was different. As if making a point to Niflheim that the next generation was just as sturdy as the old, his father included him as often as was feasible. When an imperial dignitary proposed a route, he would deliberate with the council and prompt Noctis to share his opinion as well. His insight was admittedly limited, and he needed a running commentary from Ignis in his other ear on some of the verbiage, but he held his own.

 _Noctis_ was the one who recommended maintaining trade relations between Insomnia and former Lucian territories directly in exchange for lower tariffs.

 _Noctis_ was the one who went head to head with an imperial envoy about the shared use of Galdin's docks for exchanges with Accordo.

 _Noctis_ was the one who shut down three representatives who thought they were going to get approval for a weapons embargo.

By the time the meeting was nearing its recess (before resuming in half an hour because it looked like no one had anything better to do), Noctis felt like he could use the nap he usually reserved for these briefings. It was only his father's proud smile as they temporarily adjourned that kept him from slumping low in his seat. The weight on his shoulders seemed heavier than ever, but with that silently warm vote of confidence, he thought he could keep up appearances for a little longer.

On the other hand, Aldercapt had paid Prompto little to no attention during the meeting at all. In fact, he had barely spoken a word to the Prince since they'd arrived in Insomnia - nor beforehand either, but such was to be expected. Only Verstael paid attention; though that more often than not was to yell at him rather than offer any useful attention. Prompto had never had anything as close as family, nor even friends, and so seeing the King so willingly involve Noctis in the negotiations only left him feeling more and more inadequate for the task. Even though Loqi was aiding him where he could, that was not out of friendship. It was out of duty and for the sake of saving them both any further reprimands from the lead scientist.

As recess began, Prompto couldn't have been more relieved. The more time that went on, the more he just wanted to disappear into his chair even further - though he doubted anyone would notice if he actually had done so. As per usual, no one paid his actions any heed. Still sat with a rather forced soft smirk on his expression, he listened carefully as the meeting wrapped up.

Given the length of this particular briefing, the king had arranged to have food set up in the antechamber so that everyone was refreshed for the next hour of petty whining. As soon as the recess was announced, the majority of those in attendance filtered out to gather what snacks they could before deliberations began again, and Noctis received one last pat on the shoulder as his father accompanied the emperor out like old friends. ...If old friends looked like they'd rather stab each other in the throat than sit in the same room, of course.

In all the excitement, it still hadn't been lost on Noctis that the other prince was nowhere near as involved in the proceedings as he had been. Instead he'd sat there with a smirk painted in place, and not very convincingly at that. The pang of pity Noctis had felt earlier at hearing the researcher's words returned with a vengeance, not to mention the reminder that he had yet to determine what it was about Prompto that set his nerves alight.

There were already so many things up in the air--the negotiations and his own orchestrations chief amongst them--but he figured he could add one more to his growing list.

With that less than comforting thought, Noctis casually reached for a spare bit of paper from a stack to the side meant for taking notes and writing amendments. They wouldn't miss it or the pen he pilfered.

 _~Pretty boring stuff, huh? Kinda wish they'd get it over with already...~_ he wrote, triple- and quadruple-checking his wording to ensure that no insult could be gleaned from it.

Once he was certain there would be no cause for offense, Noctis folded the paper in half and handed it to Ignis with an inconspicuous nod in Prompto's direction. If they were going to start deciphering what was going on in that blond head, now was as good a time as any.

The distance between Noctis and Prompto wasn't far, but passing notes was not a strictly royal pastime, particularly when in the middle of serious negotiations. That, of course, meant that some degree of subtlety would be required here. And even if Prompto felt inclined to reply, Noctis had no idea how he'd get the paper back.

Oh well. Plans for another time.

With the room thinning out of people; which included the majority of the envoy, Verstael and the Emperor alongside King Regis, Prompto let the previous smirk slip from his lips. Hunger was the last thing on his mind as he unclenched his grasp from his lap and glanced back at Loqi; who had obviously noticed the action and sighed, shaking his head. No words needed to be exchanged there: keeping up appearances was becoming difficult, and clearly both of them would have preferred an early night as opposed to such a meeting. Prompto had done his best to avoid zoning out during it; and for the most part had managed to keep up with the conversation, but had understood little. No surprises there. It wasn't like he'd been trained in how to participate in formal debates. He hadn't been trained in much really, asides weapons.

"Tired?" Loqi questioned, stepping forward so that he was stood just behind the Prince's chair, his gaze fixed on the room ahead. Prompto could hear the double meaning behind that question. Of course he was tired, they both were. No, Loqi was referring to aftereffects of Niflheim’s enhancers. Or lack of.

That smirk slipped back onto his lips as he glanced back at the Commander, resting his chin against his palm. "Honestly, worried about me?" He practically chimed. Only for the Commander to roll his eyes, giving him a brief look of annoyance.

"I'll take that as a yes, then." Loqi practically sneered.

From across the room, Noctis watched surreptitiously as Gladio stepped up to the plate, approaching Loqi and clapping a hand down on his shoulder. It was probably only his own considerable size that saved him from a slow and painful death, and Noctis had to roll his eyes at the display.

"So," his Shield began in a much louder voice than was probably necessary, "you've done a good job with your prince. He's no slouch with a sword."

Noctis could have snorted, but that would draw attention where it definitely wasn't wanted. With Gladio attempting to keep Loqi occupied, it was simple for Ignis to sidle closer to Prompto's chair and gently tuck the paper into his unsuspecting palm. Noctis made a mental note to compliment him on his shady and entirely unexpected stealth skills. The one thing about Ignis no one ever anticipated was his ability to do pretty much anything far better than anyone else.

Loqi's irritation was almost immediate on his expression as Gladiolus approached; such an expression that Prompto would have laughed out loud- yet his attention was distracted by Ignis slipping a piece of paper into his palm. For a moment, his act had slipped as he blinked in surprise, swiftly masking that before Loqi could spot it. Slipping the paper out of sight, he waited until the Commander was fully preoccupied with the Shield.

"I'm afraid the Prince's prowess wasn't under my own training." Loqi remarked, turning his attention away from Prompto to look to the Shield by the side of him, a small frown on his young features. With him distracted, Prompto unfurled the small slip of paper before reading it. Twice. Three times. He'd been expecting some sarky remark on his lack of participation in the meeting, or perhaps in retaliation for his snide comment after the failed spar, but instead all he saw was a fairly normal message. Despite his lack of skill in weaponry, being sneaky was a whole other matter. He'd had to learn that the hard way in the Keep.

Taking a pen, he jotted down a reply onto the paper.

_~Paper, seriously? Sneaky though! Loqi looks like he wants to hit your Shield - not sure that'd go down too well. But yeah. Boring - I don't understand most of it, really.~_

Now it was a matter of getting the note back to the Prince.

Gladio was seriously a genius in disguise. That was the only possible way Noctis could see him somehow engaging Loqi in a conversation about the differences between Lucian and Niff training regimens for their royals, which he appeared to manage with ease. It gave Prompto enough time to jot down a reply, but it became clear after a moment that his guard's attention wouldn't be distracted long enough to return the note.

Fortunately, Ignis was a force to be reckoned with.

"Oh, I wondered where that wandered off to," he scoffed, snatching the paper from Prompto's fingertips with a put upon frown. "Thank you for finding that, Prince Prompto. I'm afraid that some royals find it difficult to maintain accurate organization of their own belongings."

"Hey, I do all right," Noctis cut in immediately when he saw Ignis's plan.

His advisor raised a skeptical eyebrow and tutted, handing him the folded note. "If your head weren't bolted in place, I would wonder how it hadn't rolled off your shoulders yet, Highness."

Snorting, Noctis made a show of rolling his eyes before settling back in his seat, the note carefully shielded by the table. He waited for Ignis to return to his side before opening and reading the contents where Loqi wouldn't see, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. His counterpart sounded so normal when no one else could hear. It made Noctis wonder who was the act and who was the real Prompto.

The other prince had gotten one thing right, though: paper wasn't going to cut it if they were to keep this conversation going. So this time Noctis tried a different strategy: he wrote another note, this time for Ignis.

It was obvious that his advisor didn't necessarily approve, but he didn't rebuff Noctis either. Pausing to ensure that the rest of the company was still occupied outside, Ignis casually pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped away as though sending an important message. In reality, Noctis could see his contact screen from the corner of his eye, Ignis's thumb hovering over his own details before hesitating a moment. They shared a quick, silent exchange--Ignis reminding him of the dangers while Noctis reassured him that he would be careful.

Then Ignis opened his contact details to reveal Noctis's phone number and dropped his hand to his side, conveniently shifting the screen so that Prompto would be able to see it.

Prompto had to admit: Ignis was damned smart to think of something like that so swiftly. Loqi was still caught up in conversation with Gladiolus, leaving the blond a chance to sneak a glance at the advisor's next move: his phone number. Seriously? Even just accepting that could easily have Verstael breathing down his neck for weeks about recklessness. And yet still- something in the back of his mind told him that accepting the number wouldn't be such a bad idea. All previous thoughts of his orders had all but slipped his mind as he reached for his own phone from his pocket. There was a small show of hesitation as he considered it, before finally deciding that he'd have to take the risk for himself. Tapping the number into his contacts, and saving it under an inconspicuous alias, he quickly sent a message so that his own details would be available for the pair.

_~Well, this saves us passing notes like high schoolers.~_

Noctis chortled under his breath but otherwise didn't react. Paper was bad enough; being on his phone even during the recess of an important meeting was just courting disaster, especially when the person on the other end was still very much an enemy. Part of him didn't know why he was bothering with this--no, Prompto wasn't treating him like garbage anymore, but they were far from being considered friendly. One sparring session and exchanged numbers wouldn't change that.

Still, his mind craved answers to his questions, so he would entertain this farce for as long as he could.

_~Excuse me, but some of us didn't pass notes in school because we were too busy learning.~_

Well, that and the fact that Noctis hadn’t had friends in school to pass notes with, but that was none of the other prince's business. He probably had the same issue anyway: when people knew you were royalty, they didn't look to be your friend for the right reasons. Either they wanted something or just the bragging rights. Regardless of which it was, Noctis refused to be anyone's meal ticket.

Of course, if the people of Niflheim were anything like its government, maybe they didn't care that Prompto was royalty at all. Maybe they treated him just like anyone else and he didn't know what it was like. Noctis had a hard time believing that what with Prompto's penchant for acting like an arrogant, self-centered, superior prick, but hey--it could happen.

Sitting back against his chair, Prompto rolled his eyes slightly at the reply. In honesty, he hadn't experienced school at all. Not in the same sense Prince Noctis had; his schooling had consisted of military training primarily - training against MT units from a young age, expected to be able to take down even the harshest of foes by adolescence. It was a cruel system, one where you'd be cast aside as 'inadequate' if you didn't pass the necessary exams. It was those thoughts that kept him pre-occupied for a few moments before replying.

_~Dude, you missed out then.~_

He smirked, shaking his head. Technically he was lying; but it didn't really matter. He'd seen enough bad tv shows in the city to know what high schools were supposed to be like. Gralea did have many; just not ones he'd been able to attend.

Don't I know it, Noctis thought sadly. His attention shot to Gladio's approaching figure before he could type a reply, and he would have cringed to see Loqi now undistracted if not for the fact that he had excellent control over his expressions. There really wasn't much choice in the matter when you were a prince playing host to scores of enemies you definitely didn't want to piss off.

His Shield, seeming to sense his dismay, offered him a bolstering grin and nudged his shoulder as he moved to stand behind him once more. Noctis managed a grateful smile in return, hoping it conveyed just how much he appreciated Gladio's efforts. He knew the latter wouldn't have bothered if it were just about socializing, but he wasn't an idiot. Any contact Noctis had with Prompto might give them insight into anything the empire might be planning; it was an endeavor his Shield had every reason to be involved in. Without Gladio, Noctis didn't think it could be done.

Which reminded him that he'd never really addressed Prompto's comment about their guards.

_~Not so sure about that. Oh and it definitely wouldn't end well if those two went at it. We could probably sell tickets, though.~_

Prompto’s reply was almost instant: _~Oh sure, that'd go down really well, wouldn't get in trouble for that at all~_

_~Maybe you would--my dad would probably laugh. After he got done yelling at me.~_

Noctis turned his head to look in the opposite direction and hid his phone from sight when he noticed Loqi moving to rejoin Prompto on the other side of the table.

Prompto grinned, before sliding his phone back into his pocket as Loqi returned. If it was even possible, the blond seemed even more irritated at having to hold a conversation with the very same Shield he'd managed to piss off the evening prior. Still, as he stopped just behind Prompto, the Commander glanced over him; apparently noting the change in emotions. Before he could say anything, Prompto quickly threw a snide comment his way.

"Worried you missed something?" He smirked, raising one brow.

"Mind your tone." Loqi scowled, shaking his head.

It was impossible not to hear their exchange over the muted din of voices outside. It would have made Noctis smile--it sounded so much like something he and Gladio would say--until he noticed the contempt in Loqi's tone. That wasn't the sound of a friend's harmless ribbing. Gladio wasn't always the nicest or easiest person to get along with, nor did he speak to Noctis with the same deference that most of his attendants did (excluding Ignis, of course), but he'd never talk to Noctis the way Loqi did to Prompto.

It brought the same question back to the front of his mind: why the hell did they even have royals when they were treated like _this?_

"Uh, right, yeah." Prompto shrugged, noting the distaste in Loqi's tone. Well, apparently he was in a sour-er mood than usual. Flicking his gaze to his phone as he half pulled it from his pocket to check the notification, he winced slightly at the message. King Regis would laugh, sure, Prompto would probably be punished on the spot for causing an international incident. Yelling would be the least of his worries. Not entirely having the mood to continue the conversation further with such thoughts hanging over his head, Prompto slipped the phone back into his pocket and sat back against the chair once more, gaze downcast briefly to where his wrist was; where the code was, hidden under his sleeve.

Who was he kidding. He wasn't the same as Prince Noctis; not in the slightest. A mess of inadequate hang-ups, whose only job was to do the Empire's bidding or risk their ire.

It was probably a good thing that the council doors opened at that moment and the various dignitaries began filtering in, because Noctis had a feeling he'd said the wrong thing. He glanced back over his last message with a small frown, trying to piece together what he'd typed to put his counterpart off, but nothing was coming to mind; it seemed harmless enough.

Well then, he'd already learned something useful: Prince Prompto apparently had a short fuse. That would be important to remember going forward.

Noctis quickly locked his screen and stuffed the phone back into his pocket as the seats filled once again, straightening back into his official persona just in time for his father and the emperor to return. The former seemed calm and collected on the surface, but Noctis knew his father's mannerisms well enough to see that he was irritated. Noctis couldn't blame him: it was tough being nice to a lifelong enemy for so many hours straight, and having to keep up appearances for a room of watchful eyes was exhausting. Hopefully he'd be able to get some rest later, though. In spite of the years Noctis had spent watching his father's health declining with the effort of maintaining the Wall, it always pained him to be reminded.

 _That,_ he told himself for the hundredth time, _is why I've gotta do this. For Dad... For everybody._

The rest of the meeting concluded fairly normally. Well, no, it continued with constant arguing between the two sides over things Prompto still didn't quite understand. Unlike the first half of the meeting though, his attention was distracted. Thoughts and reminders of the day were spinning through his mind; breaking away piece by piece at his resolution to complete his orders. He'd killed before; that wasn't the problem. It was killing someone who clearly didn't deserve it, someone who just happened to be born into the wrong position of royalty and could be used as a strategic piece in war. It was hardly fair. Prompto's distracted state had clearly caught Verstael's attention; the scientist letting his gaze linger on the Prince for a moment with a frown - unknown to Prompto, who had his own gaze absently on the far wall. Occasionally he reminded himself to look attentive, but with the day’s exhaustion, that was becoming more and more of a challenge.

Thus, it was a relief when the meeting was finally completed. People began to bustle their way out of the hall, and Prompto finally stood from the chair - which had become uncomfortable a good couple of hours prior. Loqi spoke up once the Prince had moved. "You have a meeting with the Research Minister." He informed, Prompto frowning at that almost immediately. Great, with Verstael.

There wasn’t much to be done, so Prompto followed Loqi from the room quietly, dreading the possibility of having to face Verstael in a meeting.

"Jeez, I thought it would never end," Noctis moaned when the room was finally empty, deflating in his seat and loosening the tie that had commenced its stranglehold long ago. Suits were uncomfortable enough on a normal day; sitting in them for hours on end with no reprieve was sheer torture. He didn't know how his dad did it.

"Indeed, that was rather long-winded even for a diplomatic negotiation," sighed Ignis. It was a sign of just how draining that meeting had been that he lowered himself into a seat at the table rather than remaining standing until Noctis was ready to leave, which was his custom. Gladio, however, was full of energy if only out of spite and snorted derisively.

"Still can't believe the shit they tried to pull. Who do they think they're dealing with?"

"The losing side of the war, I'd imagine," Ignis shot back irritably. "We don't exactly have the high ground."

"We've got the Crystal."

Noctis bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that that wasn't enough--had never been enough. That wasn't an argument he wanted to have right now, though, so he wisely kept his mouth shut and busied himself with stretching pointedly instead. Ignis seemed to take the hint and stood up once more, effectively putting an end to their burgeoning disagreement.

"You have dinner plans with His Majesty this evening," he remarked instead, leveling Noctis with a significant look.

His heart skipped a beat, but he refused to let it show on his face. At the moment, Ignis knew nothing of his plan; he wanted it to remain that way as long as possible. Only his father could know since Noctis would need his approval to pull it off, which was why he'd asked Ignis to approach his dad's chamberlain about meeting in private. His own advisor was obviously curious as to the reason, but it would have to wait for another time.

"Guess I'd better get ready, then," he replied with a shrug, already heading for the door. "Do you think he'd mind me showing up in pajamas?"

A sigh. "Perhaps something a bit more tasteful would be in order."

"Fine. Jeans, then."

"Lovely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! :D Thanks for keeping up with the story. You're being spoiled today, with three updates between us. System, Royal Inconvenience and Gaman. Have a looksies in the links below!
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11342898/chapters/25384611 - Gaman (You'll need tissues for this.)  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10694829/chapters/23686878 - System (And for this.)


	6. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a surprising turn of events when Noctis falls ill, and just how long can Prompto survive under the hand of the Empire?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as usual for following our fic! <3 Things start to get super interesting from here on out! ~

All right. Now Ignis was beginning to worry.

He had woken at his usual time despite the reprieve from endless meetings; his body's natural clock seemed determined to keep him on schedule even on days when he was half inclined to have a lie in. It was likely for the best, however. Just because he had no formal appointments didn't mean there was nothing to be doing. There was still breakfast to be made, a prince to be woken, and a day to prepare for.

There was only one slight hitch, however: the prince refused to be woken.

Actually, he wasn't even conscious enough to do that.

All the shaking, calling, and prodding didn't rouse him. Ignis was only greeted by a weak whine before Noctis seemed to slip even further away.

A hand to his forehead told Ignis everything he needed to know--and it wasn't good.  
Practically sprinting to the door, Ignis didn't shout to the first available attendant, "Wake the court physician and bring him here at once. Then send someone to the king--the prince is ill."

The doctor arrived in record time, and Ignis stepped aside to allow him room to work. He didn't want to fret: people fell ill all the time from one thing or another, and Noctis had been under an undue amount of stress these last few days. Add to that his late evening at dinner and the lack of sleep he'd admitted to, and he was bound to experience difficulties. Still, Noctis was ordinarily the picture of health; the last time he had been sick enough to remain in bed had been years ago when he was little more than a child. His current condition sent Ignis back to a place that was better left forgotten.

Needless to say, he was relieved when Gladio burst into the room like a hurricane in season, a touch more disheveled than was usual for him. He made a beeline to Ignis, and the reason for his haste became clear when Master Clarus and King Regis entered behind him.

"The hell happened?" Gladio demanded immediately. Ignis shrugged helplessly.

"I couldn't wake him, and he has a high fever."

"He was fine yesterday."

Nodding, Ignis could find nothing else to say. It was fortunate that the king chose to do so instead.

"This puts us at a disadvantage," King Regis announced, his tone incongruously sharp when juxtaposed with the gentle hand resting on Noctis's forehead. "Any disarray will work against us. The empire's envoys cannot be made aware of Noctis's condition. Use whatever means you deem necessary, but keep this contained."

His last comment was directed solely at Ignis, who bowed deeply and murmured in the affirmative. How they would keep this from spreading within the Citadel was a mystery, however--they would need a miracle to make the charade work.

_Miracle_ was putting it mildly.

Loath as Ignis was to leave Noctis, there was little he could do when other matters were waiting. The doctor had said little and was still examining the prince, Gladio had practically planted roots, and it appeared that King Regis and his own Shield would be fixtures beside Noct's bed, so Ignis could tend to the task of maintaining the illusion of normality.

Easier said than done.

The attendants were already whispering about the doctor being alerted and that the prince's floor was restricted to only his personal staff; despite their training in the art of subtlety, the guards were obviously uneasy at their posts. If an imperial envoy was strolling through the halls of the Citadel, they would undoubtedly already have a vague idea of what had transpired.

_Six, grant me patience._

As he swept through the corridors, Ignis quieted the rumors and delivered the king's orders to all who may come into contact with the representatives from Niflheim. They immediately remedied their behavior, but there would be no telling if the damage was already done for some time yet.

It was a far simpler matter of delivering messages to the Lucian council members, signed with urgings for discretion, than the final leg of Ignis's journey.

How was he expected to keep a multitude of imperials from noticing the royal family's absence?

The plan was by no means his best, but as Ignis was pressed for time, it would have to do. There was only the small matter of acquiring the last piece to the puzzle: a catalyst. Certainly, Ignis could waltz up to Emperor Aldercapt and hand him the tickets with his highest regards, but to do so would be to invite questions-- _why weren't the Lucian royals attending? How was this relevant to the negotiations? Why was the prince's chamberlain and not the king's offering them this opportunity?_

That was already too many questions, and Ignis hadn't bothered to brainstorm all the various possibilities dependent on the emperor's mood. One thing was clear, though: the tickets could not be delivered by his own hand or, if possible, any other Lucian's lest they incite more curiosity than they quell.

That left only one option, and Ignis was reticent to utilize it. There was still little guarantee that his trust in Prince Prompto's true character was accurate, and enlisting his assistance was an unwise if potentially dangerous risk. At the same time, not taking a leap of faith could be just as disastrous, if not more so.

There wasn't time to debate with himself. So, tossing reason to the wind, Ignis retrieved his phone and sent a brief message. The recipient hadn't hidden his contact information the previous day, so it was fair game, after all.

_~Urgent matters have arisen. Can you extricate yourself?~_

 

* * *

 

 

As the sun spilt through the gap in the curtains the following day, Prompto groaned and immediately tried to turn his back to it; ducking under the covers in an attempt to defend himself from the waking world. Six his head hurt. Like, really hurt. Almost as if he'd been struck by one a MT unit or som-.. Oh yeah. Huh, close enough. Grabbing blindly for his phone, he tugged it under the covers with him before checking the time, flinching as the screen lit up all too brightly for his liking. It wasn't exactly early; but with it being a weekend, apparently the talks had decided to take a day off - leaving him with finally some time to attempt to recuperate from the trip so far.

Pushing the phone aside and blinking away any initial dizziness, he pushed himself up to sit and ran a hand through his hair; accidentally touching against his left cheekbone - immediately wincing. Last night's meeting hadn't gone well for him at all. Not only had he been caught slacking off from studying, he'd also ditched his envoy and managed to 'spar' the Prince - being caught out in probably the worst position ever. Safe to say Verstael had been fuming.

Glancing over to the nearest mirror, Prompto pushed himself up out of bed and wandered over; face falling upon seeing the purple mark on his face. It wasn't too horrendous; but it had been delivered by a semi-gauntleted hand. He'd hoped it wouldn't bruise. He'd been wrong.

No amount of attempting to re-arrange his fringe over his face was going to hide the purple mark; and that was probably exactly what Verstael wanted. It wasn't so much a show of power, but a reminder- no matter what, he was under the Empire's hand. Literally. He'd attempted to defy an order; and it had gotten him a physical reminder of his place, despite his royal standing. Eventually giving up, he shrugged on some slightly more casual clothes - Imperial wear be damned - before moving over to the window and opening the curtains.

Almost immediately he flinched at the bright sunlight, before allowing his gaze to get used to it. Again, another normal and beautiful day in Insomnia. No thick clouds, no snow, no bitter breeze biting at his face. That was when he heard the vague patter of footsteps outside his door; people clearly hurrying past. Moving to investigate, he stepped outside his room and almost walked straight into Loqi.

"S'going on?" He queried sleepily, only to get a shrug from the Commander in response.

"Not a clue, I-" Loqi paused, looking over the Princes face with a frown before continuing. "I suppose something's happened."

"You look like shit." Loqi remarked. "Any smart ideas on how you're going to hide that one?" He gestured to the mark on his face, it looked sore as hell. Loqi was well aware that Verstael was known for losing his temper with the Prince; and yet the Emperor never rose a complaint about it, not once was the head scientist reprimanded for his actions. Any other commander would have been, regardless of whether it was royalty struck or a servant. It didn't add up, yet it wasn't his place to question.

Prompto frowned, absently touching a hand to it. It did still hurt like hell, enough to make his vision a tad blurred in that eye too. He'd had worse, he reminded himself. "It's uh, fine. Looks way worse than it is, really." He nodded, already stepping back into his room to retrieve his phone from the bedside table. Loqi followed behind, pulling the doors shut once both were inside.

"Right, sure it does. You'll be glad to know you don't have any meetings with the envoys today. Congrats, a day off. Try not to get me yelled at this time?" Loqi practically spat the last bit of his sentence, there was so much spite lining it. As much as he did his duty with the Prince, apparently being ditched the previous day had left him with a bitter grudge. Then again, Prompto couldn't blame him; chances were Verstael had been just as cruel with the Commander for losing his Prince.

Still, Prompto didn't rise to the baited sentence this time; far too tired as he moved to sit down on the edge of his bed; pressing his face into his hands and groaning against the ebbing pain from his cheek. A whole day. He could avoid Verstael for that and keep himself entertained, sure. That was definitely possible-.. He hoped. Studying would be the smartest thing to do, but Prompto wasn't convinced that he could keep focus on words right now. "Suggestions?"

"Don't piss off Verstael?"

"Right, thanks. Hadn't thought of that one, Loqi."

"I don't care what you do; just don't grab any further unwanted attention. I like my head intact."

Loqi groaned, shaking his head at the Prince's brief and sarcastic tone. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his long jacket, he practically glared over at Prompto; not appreciative of his previous escapades in the last few days. No, this time he was going to keep an eye on the blond. He wasn't going to spend the evening being reprimanded by Verstael again for being incapable of keeping eyes on a 'child'. Which, at times, essentially was exactly how the Prince behaved.

"Right, pretty important thing, that." Prompto hummed, before noticing his phone buzz in his pocket; immediately making a grab for it as he read over the text. Well, firstly, he could tell that it wasn't Noctis who had sent it - though with the phone being Ignis', then he supposed that made sense. Still.. For the advisor to send a message like that.. Prompto glanced up at Loqi, then back at his phone. Then.. up at Loqi. Great, now he really did have to ditch the Commander; curiosity demanded it!

Which.. was going to be easier said than done. In fact- "The uh..." He started, earning Loqi's attention. "The vials. You don't have any more, do you?" Not exactly what he wanted, but this was a way to get Loqi out of the room - whilst he spoke, he briefly tapped a reply into the phone:

_~Give me like, five minutes to ditch Loqi. Totally on it.~_

"Fine. Just stay put for once, would you?" Loqi groaned; eventually giving in to the Prince's insistence. It wasn't like the vials would go to waste - not in the slightest. With the small shake in his hands becoming a far more regular addition, Prompto was well aware that symptoms would only worsen with time. If anything, he was just being super cautious.

A few minutes later, Loqi finally slipped out of the chambers; heading to the lower floors of the Citadel. That left Prompto time to shrug on a jacket, and attempt once more to hide the nasty bruise wit his fringe. No luck there, at this rate he was going to be stuck with it.

 

* * *

 

Ignis would have breathed a sigh of relief when the reply arrived if it weren't for the way his heart still pounded with indecision. To do as he planned would mean playing a dangerous game and walking a fine line between insubordination and treason. The king had ordered that no imperial envoy should be made aware of Noct's condition, and Ignis didn't plan to divulge that information. Gaining the prince's assistance, however, might require informing him of more than was strictly proper. Prompto was still an enemy, whatever the treaty might say, and any information he could glean from them was just as much a threat as what Noct had begun seeking in offering his contact information to the other prince.

There was still no other way, however, and Ignis vowed to tell no more than was necessary to enlist Prompto's help. Anything else could wait until Noct was better.

If he gets better.

That was the sort of traitorous thought he did not need to entertain right now. This wasn't a daemon attack or Starscourge. The prince was ill, likely due to exhaustion and poor self-care. That was all.

_~Thank you. I will wait near your chambers.~_

_No turning back, Ignis. Do what must be done--for Noct._

Summoning whatever courage there was in his mind and heart, Ignis waited just around the corner until Loqi vanished from sight before he emerged. There was no telling how long he would have with the prince, but he doubted it would be anywhere near enough. He would have to be quick.

It was in the interests of time and with the knowledge that Prompto was aware of his arrival that Ignis forewent knocking and slipped quietly into the room, shutting the door behind him with care.

Prompto didn't bother standing from where he sat perched on the end of the bed, offering a brief half-arsed wave as the retainer ducked inside the room. Loqi wouldn't be gone too long; Prompto doubted that wherever he'd managed to smuggle the vials in from was far from the Citadel; as such would only raise questions as to why a Niff Commander was wandering the streets of Insomnia.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Highness," Ignis immediately began. When he turned to face the prince, however, the words died in his throat at the sight of a glaring bruise over Prompto's eye, undoubtedly inflicted purposefully rather than by mere chance. It prompted a twinge of sadness and anger on his behalf: if someone were to injure Noct in such a way, Ignis would have seen to it that they paid for their actions--and that was likely nothing compared to what Gladio would do.

Perhaps it was that thought that made him comment darkly, "I hope you will not take offense to my saying that many of your compatriots appear inordinately cruel."

He closed his mouth tightly after that, hoping he hadn't overstepped his bounds already and knowing that he was a word away from offering his assistance. The image of Noct's sadness and betrayal when Ignis had abandoned him during the celebration was all that kept him from doing so. Whatever he might feel, it was Noct to whom he owed his allegiance and it was from Noct that he would seek permission to help Prompto.

Prompto briefly hesitated before laughing and shaking his head. "This? Oh, no, I totally managed to drop a book on myself in the library! Bit of a clutz really." And a total failure at lying; it was a terrible attempt to say the least. Still, the memory of Verstael wasn't something he wanted to bring to the forefront of his mind, not now.

"You said, uh, urgent matters?"

"Indeed," replied Ignis slowly and with every intention of letting Prompto know that he didn't believe a word of that ridiculous excuse. Now wasn't the time to call his bluff for many reasons, not least of which being that it was still too soon for the prince to trust anyone in the Citadel yet. It was something to work towards, but at another time.

Besides, his entire mind needed to be focused on the task at hand. Revealing his hand was simply not an option.

"Some distressing news has been delivered to the king," Ignis explained carefully. Perhaps the best course of action was not to lie; half-truths would suffice. "He and the prince will be indisposed today. As I'm sure you can imagine, the king is less than enthusiastic about being rendered unavailable with so many guests within the Citadel."

That was certainly an understatement, as they were both no doubt aware, but it was the most tactful way of approaching the subject he could manage

Well, that explained the odd rush of servants first thing in the morning, Prompto mused. Still, what it didn't explain was why Ignis was choosing to relay this information to him rather than the Emperor himself. Linking his fingers together and shifting slightly uncomfortably in his position, he dreaded the idea of having to come across Verstael or Aldercapt today.

“Right, and you're uh, telling me for?" He was too tired to throw on his facade without the Niffs around; whether that was from socialising enough this week or a side effect of his own ailments, he wasn't sure..

Taking a deep breath, Ignis removed the stack of tickets from the pocket of his jacket and stepped closer to where Prompto was seated.

"It would appear suspicious for a mere chamberlain to suddenly make this offer, and I'm afraid more questions would be asked than our representatives can answer at this time." He paused to take an uneasy breath before steeling himself and meeting Prompto's eyes.

"There is a technological symposium at Insomnia's convention center until late this evening. They will be showcasing the various efforts we have made to modernize the city and think towards the future of our people. It is my understanding that Niflheim values technological advancement above all else, so I have acquired tickets for each of your envoys so that you may attend. However, I cannot deliver them myself for the reasons I have already given you."

Now came the potentially problematic part…

"It was my hope that you would discuss attending with the emperor in my stead."

_Niflheim values technological advancement._ That was an understatement. Verstael practically worshipped Imperial Chancellor Izunia for his knowledge on how to twist the daemons biological components to strengthen the Magitek Infantry. And others, including the Prince himself. Prompto wasn't sure who he blamed more, Verstael or Chancellor Izunia.

Meeting with the Emperor wasn't the issue. The issue was getting through Verstael to do it; yet if Prompto had any concerns there, asides from a slight flinch at the suggestion he didn't let them show. It was a simple delivery of sorts, what was the worst that could happen - he'd already been struck, and withdrawal felt worse than that anyway. With a nod, he raised his gaze to Ignis.

"Yeah, I can totally do that." He nodded. Hoping he sounded more convinced that he felt.

This time, Ignis _did_ feel relief, although he held his breath to keep from indicating it. Instead he busied himself with handing Prompto the tickets and explaining that the Citadel's drivers would be at the empire's disposal for the day to ferry them to and from the event. He had already spoken with the attendant overseeing the chauffeurs and indicated that no other stops were to be made; they had even agreed on the route to ensure that no sensitive information could possibly fall into enemy hands while they were out and about. There wasn't much to glean as Insomnia had never been at the fore of the fighting, but now that the Crown City was all Lucis had left, there was no such thing as being too cautious.

"Thank you for your understanding, Highness," Ignis said as he prepared to take his leave, bowing deeply at the door. He had his own prince to see to and felt he had already been away overlong. Still, the next words to come out of his mouth left a sour taste behind: "I am in your debt."

Prompto bit at his lip slightly. It probably shouldn't have, but it felt strange to be addressed as Highness without the usual spite or condescending tone overlapping it. So strange in fact, that the word seemed almost alien to hear. So much so that...

"Uh, just-" Prompto paused slightly, debating whether this really was a good idea. Six, he'd had worse. "Just Prompto. The uh, formality and stuff is totally draining, so-.. Yeah."

Besides, royalty got you nowhere in Niflheim. Not when you were a disposable puppet, and constantly treated like one. Yet, as far as Prompto could tell, Ignis was treating him like an actual person, and actual people had names. Not roles. Plus, his role carried a mask with it, a mask which he's grown tired of wearing in the absence of Niflheim’s envoy.

Only years of learning how to train his expression kept Ignis from raising his eyebrows in surprise. The haughty, cruel boy from their earlier interactions seemed to have evaporated, leaving someone far more real and vulnerable in his wake. It was yet another inconsistency in their dealings with the empire, but Ignis was beginning to suspect that his assumptions had indeed been correct. Someone of genuine character would likely have to do unspeakable things, become someone else to survive in the sort of society Niflheim had created. Even a prince.

So, with a gentle smile that he hoped was comforting, Ignis nodded. "Very well. Prompto it is, then. When not in the presence of those who may take offense to such informality, of course. I would hate for Emperor Aldercapt or Master Verstael to get the impression that I disrespect your position."

It was a subtle prod, but one nevertheless. He had little reason to believe that either man truly cared about respect given how they treated Prompto in front of company, but the latter should know that at least _someone_ paid it some credence.

"And in that case, you may feel free to call me by my name without honorifics as you wish," he added, his smile turning wry and a bit sad. "I'm afraid I cannot speak for Prince Noctis on that front, but I can say he would greatly appreciate your help as well. I do hope the treaty will mean the two of you can educate both our governments on what form friendship can take."

After so many decades of war, Ignis doubted it, but as long as he had Prompto's ear when he wasn't behaving as the spoilt prince of the last few days... Well, perhaps it would work to his advantage.

Prompto honestly wasn't sure what to say to that. The alliance with Lucis was nothing but a farce so they could move him into close quarters with the Prince; something he'd desperately tried to avoid since they'd arrived. But with the incident of passing 'notes' the day before, he found himself torn between seeking a possible friend, and killing him to save his own life. He had to remind himself yet again that Prince Noctis was, and still is the enemy. Regardless of a treaty.

Both of them were just pawns in a political nightmare.

Nodding to Ignis as he finished speaking, Prompto pushed himself up to his feet; though his expression lacked the vulnerability from before. Perhaps Ignis would just put it down to the mention of Verstael.

"Thanks, Ignis. You should go, though; Loqi will be returning shortly."

His tone had slipped back to the usual formalities, but certainly lacked the sarcastic nature. To Prompto, his mask played two roles. Around the Niffs it kept him detached from his own words and actions, as if someone else was doing such cruel things. Now, though, now it was to throw a small bit of distance between them. Sure, they could be informal to one another, but Prompto remained conflicted on letting it be any more than that.

Insomnia were the enemy. That's what his orders told him; his own opinion and feelings on the matter were irrelevant.

Nodding one last time, Ignis murmured his thanks once again before slipping silently back out into the corridor. He hadn't expected that meeting to go so well. Honestly, his expectations had been rather low despite all he'd told Noct about judging books by their covers. There was still something not quite right about Prompto and many puzzle pieces missing; it was a mystery Ignis was determined to unravel as soon as possible. Perhaps their agreement and subsequent discussion would assist in that regard. They were by no means friends, nor did he entertain the illusion that the two princes would truly become so, yet it was another step in the right direction.

Once Ignis had left, Prompto relaxed visibly. Just in time for Loqi to return to the room; a frown on his expression, though that was nothing new.

"Was someone here?" Loqi asked, or demanded, with a brief glance around the room. Prompto had no clue how the Commander could work that out.

"Dude, that's creepy. It was just an attendant. Did you get-"

"No luck."

Oh well, he could add extended suffering to his list of reasons why he was hating this trip. Moving across the room to grab his jacket, he spoke whilst his back was facing the other blond.

"Get me a meeting with Emperor Aldercapt."

"Right." Loqi didn't seem particularly convinced, yet didn't push further. Prompto listened as his steps left the room once more.

 

* * *

 

"How is he?" Ignis inquired softly when he returned to Noct's chamber to find the same scene he'd left almost an hour prior. Gladio shrugged, pretending to be unaffected when Ignis knew he was nothing of the sort.

"Doc can't figure it out," he grumbled. "Besides the fever, he's fine."

Ignis hummed in acknowledgement, frowning. He was at a loss to say anything else, and a tense silence descended until King Regis finally turned to him with grief-stricken yet determined eyes.

"Have the imperial envoys surfaced?"

"No, Majesty," he immediately replied, glad that he could at least tell his monarch the truth after all the lies he'd conjured today. "I provided admittance tickets to the university's technological summit. With any luck, they will be leaving the Citadel within the hour."

The king nodded, running a shaking hand over his face. "Excellent. The further from the Citadel they remain today, the better."

"What of tomorrow, Regis?" asked Master Clarus. His concerned expression was nearly identical to that of his son. "We cannot expect to hide Noctis's illness forever. If he isn't better by morning..."

"Then we will deal with it in the morning," interjected King Regis firmly. "For now, we can do little more than wait."

For the first time he could remember, Ignis took offense to the idea. Patience was a virtue, yes, but it felt as worthless as they all were today.

 

* * *

 

Noctis knew he wasn't home long before he opened his eyes. The smell of fresh grass and recent rain hung heavy on the air, and he could feel the gentle press of damp earth against his cheek. The silence was punctuated by the distant babbling of water; no animals disturbed the peaceful ambiance, though. He felt so very alone yet surrounded by a powerful presence at the same time. That was also how he knew he was dreaming: he had only ever been in such a place once before, and he had no idea how he'd somehow returned.

Groaning at the effort, Noctis pried his heavy eyelids open and forced himself to sit up even though it felt like his body was fused to the ground. Oh yes, he definitely remembered this place. Maybe that was why he wasn't startled to find a little white fox with a red horn on its forehead watching over him from a few feet away.

"Oh..."

A soft ping and his phone vibrating in his pocket had him quickly digging it out--or as quickly as he could manage when his entire being didn't quite feel real. There was a message waiting for him from an unknown number, just as he'd expected.

"I was wondering when you'd be up, Noct! You sure can sleep a lot."

Shooting Carbuncle a wry look, Noctis asked groggily, "Why am I here?"

His companion squeaked as his phone went off again, and Noctis read, "You're pretty far gone in the real world. Do you remember what happened?"

Boy, did he ever. The flash of light and color and sound--the feeling like he'd been stabbed in the chest only to have someone twist the knife deeper--the exhaustion and nausea that had followed... It was all pretty unforgettable and hurt like hell, but he couldn't bring himself to regret his actions, not even when he'd been reunited with his dinner or faced with his abused expression in the mirror. He would do it again and again if it meant beginning to take precautions against whatever Niflheim had planned for them. In fact, he would probably have to.

His phone alerted him to another message, effectively yanking him from his thoughts.  
"Everyone's really worried."

Yeah, that was no surprise. He could only imagine what Ignis must have felt when he entered Noctis's room…

"All right," he sighed, nodding resolutely despite the nagging desire to just go back to sleep. "How do we do this?"

Carbuncle skittered in a circle with an excited squeal. "Just follow me!"

With that, he took off over the swaying grasses with an energy that Noctis could only envy. Moving his feet at all felt like he was trudging through quicksand; to keep pace with Carbuncle felt like the equivalent of running a marathon, climbing all the steps in the Citadel, and then practicing his warping for ten hours straight. He managed well enough at first, but eventually, it became too much.

"W-Wait a sec..."

Noctis stumbled to a halt and fell to his knees, clutching at his chest as he tried to catch his breath. A second later, a light weight pressed against his shoulder and he glanced sidelong to where Carbuncle was settling his front paws against Noctis's arm with concern in his eyes. His phone vibrated in his pocket with whatever his companion wanted to say; it took longer than it should have for his trembling fingers to dig it out.

"Looks like you need a break."

All he could manage in response was a weak nod. Was it supposed to feel like this even in his dreams? He'd known there were risks involved when he came up with his plan, of course; his dad had reminded him of them all when they spoke...was it last night? He had no way of telling how long he'd been out, so he had to assume it was. Regardless of what it meant for him, though, he'd done what he had to to ensure that Niflheim wouldn't easily get the upper hand. At the very least, he had hopefully bought them some time.

Did it really have to hurt so much, though?

As if sensing his thoughts, Carbuncle squeaked comfortingly and hopped into his lap to nuzzle at his face. It was hard to see past him to read the message that popped up on Noctis's screen, but he managed.

"What you did was really brave, you know. But then, you've always had a lot of courage, even when you were little!"

"Courage," Noctis scoffed sadly, idly wrapping his arms around Carbuncle's tiny body and hugging him close. "Doesn't feel that way..."

"You say that now, but that's only because you don't feel so good!" was the reply, and Noctis couldn't help laughing a little.

"I guess..."

What he wanted to ask was whether he'd ever feel better again, but he already knew it was too soon to ponder that. Besides, how would that look--whining that he didn't feel well when he might still have to do some things that would make it all even worse? His father dealt with his own handicap every day; he battled fatigue, pain, and the heavy burden of being responsible for everyone in Lucis. Noctis was achy and tired and could have sworn someone had hit the vibrate button on his legs, but otherwise, what he felt was nothing compared to what his dad lived with. If the latter could still function, then so could he. If his father could sacrifice his own comfort on a daily basis so that Noctis and everyone else could live relatively normal lives, there was no reason why, to a lesser extent, Noctis couldn't do the same in his own way.

With that thought to bolster him, Noctis released Carbuncle and forced himself to stand up. They couldn't sit around here wallowing in his weakness forever, not when people were probably waiting for him to wake up again.

Carbuncle hopped up and down in what Noctis would interpret as pride at his Herculean effort and led the way forward once more. This time, Noctis wouldn't stop until he was home.

At least that was the plan. Something else, however, appeared to have a different one.

"What the hell is that!?"

Noctis dove out of the way just before the enormous...whatever it was lunged at him. Its claws raked the air where he'd just been standing as it whirled and came around for another attack.

_Dammit, what is this thing!?_

There was only one occasion he could remember where he'd seen anything similar to the monster currently snarling up at him from where it prepared to pounce. He'd been so small then and the daemon so huge that it seemed to dwarf the Astrals themselves. It, too, had been the image of darkness like this beast; Noctis could somehow feel it rolling off the creature in waves. Those shadows were so potent, so familiarly debilitating, that Noctis froze in place at the memories that swam unbidden to the surface of his mind. All of the walls he'd built and doors he'd closed on that night were torn asunder, stealing his breath away at just the wrong moment.

Because this time, he wasn't quite quick enough and cried out as his right arm exploded in agony. He was thrown off balance but didn't remember hitting the ground; he only realized that must have been what happened when he opened his eyes to see the creature stalking towards him with its glowing yellow gaze. From his indefensible position on the ground, Noctis could see every sharpened tooth, every dagger-like claw--he could even imagine feeling its hot, rancid breath against his face as it approached.

And all he could do was close his eyes and wait. Was this the end? Had he thrown himself upon his own sword for nothing?

Yes, he had. He'd tried his best, but it just wasn't enough. And now he would die here in terror while his body would likely expire where everyone else would believe he went peacefully in his sleep.

His father…

Ignis and Gladio…

Everyone.

_Not with a bang but a whimper._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dont shoot me for that cliffhanger pls ;)


	7. Time Is Running Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Noct trapped within the confines of his own fever, Prompto spends the evening fulfilling Ignis' request; and stumbles across something that doesn't quite add up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Really sorry for the lack of updates on my part lately (Chocobutt here!) but here's the latest chapter for you! We like to keep you guessing ;D So let us know your theories in the comments!

_There was a scratching sound as those huge claws scraped the ground--Noctis couldn't hear anything else. It played over and over until he just wanted it to be done already..._

 

_But the pain never came._

  
_He cracked an eye open, blinking away the tears that had sprouted when his arm had been torn open, and felt his jaw drop at the sight of Carbuncle standing before him like some sort of guardian angel. Despite his small size, the little fox could have faced down every MT in the empire for as enormous as his intent was. Even the creature could see it; the scratching was from its constant pacing as it desperately sought a way to get around Carbuncle to Noctis._

  
_The buzz of his phone drew him from his amazed stupor, and Noctis cursed under his breath when he realized he had dropped the device in his panic. It now lay a few feet away, and he scrabbled for it like a dying man would for water._

  
_"That's a daemon!" Carbuncle's message told him._

  
_That much Noctis had worked out for himself. Still, that didn't explain... "How'd it even get here?"_

  
_Last time he had been trapped in this place, the monsters had been drawn by the Starscourge that coursed through his veins. They were figments of his imagination, yes, but also manifestations of the illness that would have killed him had his father not taken him to Tenebrae. He didn't_ have _that anymore, though--he wasn't sick...was he?_

 

_"I don't know," the next message said, "but we've got to do something. If it stays here, you might not wake up!"_

 

Just like last time…

  
_Nodding, Noctis ignored the pain in his arm and rushed forward to stand directly behind Carbuncle, a familiar sensation of déjà vu washing over him. It took him a moment of indecision before he realized he had no weapon with which to fight anyway. There was a daemon staring at him like he was a five-course meal at Kenny Crow's, and Noctis had absolutely nothing to use to protect himself._

  
_Carbuncle must have realized the same thing, because his phone went off again a second later._

  
_"Reach for it with your mind! You might not have your normal sword, but you can use your dad's."_

  
Oh…

 

_That was right: as a Lucis Caelum, he had access to the Armiger of his ancestors. The only problem was that he'd never summoned it before…_

  
Reach out with my mind, huh? Well... Here goes nothing.

  
_Focusing all his attention--his desires, his very_ being _\--on summoning a weapon, Noctis noticed a slight burning sensation in his palm before a heavy weight dropped into it. He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes, but when he opened them, there was a familiar sword just waiting to be used._

  
_His father's sword._

 

_Now they were in business. Or so he thought._

 

_After the first daemon fell, another appeared._

  
_And another._

  
_And_ another.

 

Where the hell are they all coming from?

  
_Noctis used everything Gladio had ever taught him, and still the daemons kept materializing. They weren't just an endless stream that multiplied by the second--each monster was stronger than the last. It didn't help at all that Noctis wasn't really in fighting form to begin with, but after beating back the hordes for what felt like an eternity but couldn't be more than a few minutes, he was spent. No magic of his line could keep his fingers from trembling against the hilt of his father's sword; his companion's constant encouragement was not enough to prop his eyelids open when they were tempted to fall._

  
_And all the while, the daemons just kept coming._

 

_"Why....i-isn't this...this working?" he huffed breathlessly, backing up until he found himself against a tree with nowhere else to go._

  
_He could distantly hear the sound of his phone, but with two ferocious monsters staring him down like the prey he was, he didn't dare reach for it. He needed to seem strong even when all hope was lost and the world was losing focus around him._

  
_That was when he heard it. The voices were soft at first, but they grew in volume and intensity the closer the daemons came. Noctis struggled to make our their words to no avail--but those voices... They seemed so familiar... He'd heard them before, he was sure, yet he couldn't place them with his head swimming like this…_

  
_Just before the dream world swam out of view and Carbuncle's insistent squeaks were silenced, Noctis thought he saw something…_

  
Home…

  
_But it couldn't be... That familiar blond striding down the corridors--the white dog sitting in his path that Noctis had only ever seen in pictures in a journal--they couldn't be real..._

_Could they?_

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take long to arrange a meeting with the Emperor. Loqi had returned within the hour along with the information that Prompto was scheduled to be seen after the Emperor's breakfast with Verstael. That gave him just long enough to change into the typical Imperial wear, once again attempting to manoeuvre his fringe over the blackening mark under his eye. It was futile; and a constant reminder of where disobedience would eventually land him; as much as the thought of fulfilling his duties twisted his gut, the thought of what may become of him if he didn’t was worse. Turning away from the mirror and back towards the bed; he stumbled.  
  
Vision lurching rather suddenly and uncomfortably, the only thing that prevented the prince from crashing to the ground was the fact he immediately threw a hand out to the bed post; catching himself. A dizzying feeling much like vertigo swept over him, and left in a matter of moments. It was brief, but enough for him to immediately clasp a free hand over his mouth as his stomach lurched.  
  
_Not now…_  
  
Closing both eyes, he waited for it to pass. Loqi was outside, and luckily hadn’t witnessed Prompto’s second falter that week. It was difficult, but eventually he was able to let go of the bed post and stand straight once more. He probably looked a tad paler for it, but thank the Six he hadn’t thrown up or anything. With a sigh, he grabbed the previously gifted tickets and made his way out of the room.

  
“Need a babysitter?” Loqi chimed, glancing over the prince.  
  
Prompto shook his head, a fatigued grin on his lips. “What, worried about me again?”  
  
“Hardly.”  
  
Loqi rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the opposite wall, mouth in a tight line as Prompto walked away and towards where the Emperor’s accommodation was. One fist clenched uncomfortably in his pocket, he gulped down on the rising fear. It wasn’t often he sought an audience; even for trivial things.

Prompto almost stumbled once more before he reached the Emperor’s temporary quarters. With the brief wave of vertigo, he briefly considered whether going to this.. technological advancement.. thing was actually a good idea. Perhaps no one would notice if he took the evening off; just long enough to muster enough strength for the following day. Lying around in bed for the evening was totally the most appealing idea in the world right now. Perhaps even the universe. Still, the Six were not in his favour tonight;  
  
Arriving at the quarters, he glanced briefly to the Crownsguard in the hallway – as such was to be expected, who in their right mind wouldn’t keep an eye on the envoy? Even he’d noticed a few guards outside in the corridor where he was staying. Raising a hand and biting down on all that previous fear, Prompto knocked gently against the door. It swung open almost immediately – swung open to the one person he really _really_ had wanted to avoid.  
  
Verstael scowled, stepped back, and ushered the prince into the audience room that attached itself to what Prompto assumed were the bedrooms.  
  
“The hell are you here for, boy?” The scientist wasted no time in questioning; the door behind Prompto clicking closed.  
  
“I, uh-..” No, not now. Mask. Use it. “I have a meeting with the Emperor.” Prompto blurted, trying to pack as much feigned confidence behind those words as possible.  
  
“Do you now?”  
  
“I requested that Commander Loqi infor-“  
  
“Stop.”  
  
That word alone was enough to make the prince both flinch and freeze in his sentence at the same time. This had been a bad idea.  
  
Verstael continued. “You _do_ understand that you are in no position to make such hasty demands of the Emperor?”  
  
“I am the pr-“  
  
“You are what I say you are. A tool, nothing more, nothing less, boy.”

Verstael stepped forward, hands still tucked behind his back as he regarded Prompto with a sneer. If it had been anyone else; Prompto would have taken an involuntary step backwards yet right now something held him firmly in place. Whether that was fear or pure stupidity was anyone’s guess. Whatever space had been between them was more than gone as the scientist reached out and grabbed for the Prince’s face firmly – making sure to tighten his grip against where he’d previously struck.  
  
“Know your place. You are here for a reason and I suggest you start acting the part. Do not forget you are entirely disposable; you are nothing to the Empire should you fail in your task.”  
  
Prompto gulped, but did his best to respond with a nod; vision blurring slightly at the press of contact against his cheekbone. It sent searing pain up through his face, rousing a previously forgotten headache with a vengeance, briefly dizzying his vision. Just before it became too much for the blond to handle, Verstael withdrew the hand – almost smirking as the Prince stumbled to regain a sudden loss of balance.  
  
“You can deal with me. The Emperor is resting.”  
  
It took a moment, but Prompto eventually reached into his pocket and drew out the tickets Ignis had previously offered with a shaking hand.  
  
“These were, uh, presented to us-.. For our plans-“ Prompto didn’t quite finish the sentence as Verstael snagged the tickets from his hand; a curt nod following.  
  
“Get to the point, boy. When?”  
  
“T-Tonight.”  
  
“Right. Now get out.”  
  
Just like that? Prompto blinked, though wasn’t about to anger Verstael even further.

Stepping towards the door, he paused as the scientist spoke once more. Verstael still had his back to the prince, but Prompto didn’t need to see his face to imagine the smug, cruel sneer across it.  
  
“Just hope you return to the Keep as a Prince. Not as experimental cargo.”  
  
Prompto didn’t give an answer, finally leaving the room before pausing outside; turning his attention to the window across the corridor as he tried to settle his thoughts and stomach alike. Leaning back against the wall, he felt his breath hitch in his throat, raising one hand to press lightly against the renewed pounding headache that ebbed around his eye.

_Experimental cargo…_

It wasn’t the first time a threat like that had been made towards him. In fact, he was pretty sure if he had a jewel for every time it had been thrown in his direction, he’d be swimming in a sea of riches by now. Or like, totally drowning in it.

Prompto didn’t stay in the hallway for long; knowing full well there was a chance Verstael could step out of that room any minute and thus he soon headed back towards his own room. Shaking hands shoved in his pockets, he did his best to keep his gaze on the corridor ahead with a forced soft smirk on his lips. If anyone else saw him, they’d probably just see his usual stuck-up brat look, despite how broken and unsteady he felt on the inside.  
  
Excluding this day, he only had have five more days to make a decision. No, the decision. A choice that could ultimately mean a life as-.. Well, as whatever went into those damned research factories. It was that, or kill the prince of Lucis – something he just wasn’t as keen on doing.  
  
He felt sick.  
  
No matter how hard he tried to think up a third alternative, there wasn’t one. Prompto honestly wished he hadn't left Gralea in the first place.

Stepping down the hallway with his focus entirely on what had just transpired, he groaned audibly once he was sure no one was in sight. This was going wrong, totally going wrong. On one hand, he had orders to fulfil, on the other hand, he was a freakin’ Prince; who was being pushed around like a total slave. It didn’t add up.

Nothing in this place added up, especially the white dog sat a short way down the hall, all fluffy with it’s ears perked up.

Wait.

Dog?!

So caught up in his thoughts, he barely noticed the bundle of fluff before him; almost walking straight into the dog - yet he managed to catch himself just in time, nearly tripping over his own feet as he halted. Glancing once around the empty corridor, he briefly considered whether someone had lost this dog - because asides from cats, he hadn't seen any other companions in the Citadel. No one seemed to be calling for it though; so perhaps it had wandered off quite a while beforehand?  
  
"Hey there, pal." Prompto grinned; a genuine one, as he knelt down against the carpet, reaching a hand out to the adorable dog. Whilst no one was looking, he was more than happy to be himself; not that he was really thinking about that right now - more about just how much he wanted to pet the fluffball.

As his hand touched against the dog's fur, she let out a small whine of appreciation. That only made him smile more; thoughts of the hell he’d just escaped all but forgotten as he pet against the soft tufts.

“Where’ve you come from, buddy?” He doubted that any of the servants here owned dogs. Nor had he heard mention of the prince owning one either.

 

 _Flashes... That was all he could see... Flashes of a dream within a dream..._  
_The blonde knelt and reached out. The white dog patiently allowed him to come closer._  
_She whined quietly at the attention. His smile turned true._  
_Pryna barked once and slipped away down the corridor. Prompto was meant to follow._  
_But where...?_  
_Where else?_  
_The Crystal._

 

"W-Wait!" Prompto blinked as the dog barked - which had the prince almost toppling backwards in surprise - and set off down the corridor. Glancing back in the direction he'd come, he briefly considered just how much scolding this was going to get him. On the other hand, the dog seemed pretty intent for him to follow. Well, he had five days left to live! Really sucked, but hey, he was going to break a few rules. So, instead of heading back to his room, Prompto followed the dog through the Citadel.

 

 _Why weren't the guards at their posts?_  
_Why was the vault door left open?_  
_Or was it...?_  
_He didn't know... He didn't know anything but darkness as Pryna led the way into the most sacred of places within the Citadel._  
_Another set of footsteps followed._  
_So much confusion... Light and dark and light and dark but which was which and who was whom..._  
_Was that an alarm?_  
_No, an echoing, deafening howl…_

 

Okay, that dog was fast. Like, stupid fast. By the time Prompto had caught up with it, his chest was practically heaving from the exercise; leaving the prince silently debating whether taking up running again wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

"Woah woah, dude! No! Come back-.." Prompto looked up, hands on his knees.

Oh god, no no no! This was not where he wanted to be stood; and as such, Prompto dawdled at the entrance to the vault - clearly not keen to go further. "Dog, puppy! Seriously, come back!"

None of this made any sense. Weren’t there guards supposed to be posted at this entrance? It’s the freaking vault. The whole ‘wall protecting the city’ Yeah, that came from in there. In that open..

Very open…

Vault.

No. Nope! He was not getting an early execution for wandering into the wrong part of the Citadel. Despite how much he wanted to go and fetch the cute white dog, he decided to turn his back on the vault and return to the lower floors of the Citadel. It didn't sit right with him that the Vault was unguarded - what sort of idiot would leave the city's most prized possession alone whilst Niflheim had somewhat free reign of the building? It didn't make sense, what it did look like however was a bad idea, or a trap. Or both. Six, it was probably both. So with that, he left the Crystal behind; despite how the energies in the air tugged at him mentally.  
  
It wasn't too difficult to recall the way he'd come, and once Prompto was in a more acceptable area of the Citadel he slowed and shoved his hands back in his pocket, doing his best to forget the insistent dog. A trap, he reminded himself, must have been a trap of some kind. Or maybe he'd passed out somewhere and was dreaming this whole thing up - also plausible.

Prompto paused into the hallway, raising a hand to rub against his sore cheek. To say everything was getting just a little overwhelming was the understatement of the year. Dude, what he would give for just a single day of normality. Not a day with shouting Niffs and magical dogs leading him to a death sentence.  
  
Speaking of... Prompto glanced back in the direction he had come. He hoped the dog had found its way out of the vault and to wherever or whoever it belonged. Part of him really wanted to turn back and check on it, the other part knew damn well Verstael would kill him himself with his bare hands if he caught the Prince near the Crystal

 

* * *

 

 

Gladio jerked awake with a snort, glaring around the room like something might jump out at him from the lengthening shadows. It was ridiculous, like being a little kid who thought monsters were hiding under the bed, but he wasn't taking any chances this week. The monsters were _real_ and wandering the Citadel like they owned the place; finding them in here wouldn't be unexpected even if he'd literally decapitate anyone who tried.

  
There was nothing else he could do for Noct, after all. Once he scanned the room for threats, Gladio's gaze fell back to his charge, who had yet to move an inch since the doctor left a couple of hours ago. The guy had no clue what he was doing, at least not in this case. Nothing Ignis could say convinced Gladio that the quack wasn't just blowing smoke to hide the fact that he didn't have any answers. Well, if what he said could even be called _that_.

  
_Exhaustion_ , he’d diagnosed.

  
_Bed rest_ , he’d prescribed.

  
Noct was asleep in bed--staying asleep in bed probably wasn't going to help when that was the problem.

  
But that was all they had to go on, and the doctor had left with orders to call him if anything changed. Like that would get them anywhere.

  
No one had moved since he'd dozed off, it seemed: King Regis was still glued to his chair at the side of the bed, Ignis and his own father having left to take care of business elsewhere. Someone had to run the place while both king and prince were stuck in here.

  
If Noct and the king hadn't moved, though, what had woken Gladio?

As soon as the question occurred to him, it was like getting dunked in warm water. The feeling exploded right at the center of his chest, a comforting yet mysterious sensation. Even as evening fell outside, Noct's room brightened for a moment, and the sudden luminescence banished the shadows that had been creeping ever closer. It was quick--maybe half a second--and then it was gone. Oddly enough, when the light faded and left them in the same state of semi-darkness as before, Noct's cheeks held more color--he looked _healthier_.

  
Gladio frowned in confusion, glancing over to see that it wasn't only him: King Regis looked equally discomfited, only he wasn't as puzzled. Which meant…

  
"The Crystal," he murmured.

  
Gladio was running before he finished saying the words.

It was only thanks to a hell of a lot of luck that he was able to sprint through the corridors uninhibited. At this hour, the guards had finished their final rounds and were settling in for the overnight watch. It meant Gladio could make as much noise as he wanted, barreling through the hallways in a way that would have caused a panic earlier in the day. If there was a record for how fast someone could make it from the residences to the heart of their kingdom, he was pretty sure he broke it. Shattered it, really.

Gladio skidded to a stop right outside the vault where the Crystal was stored. With King Regis's statement and all those Niffs hanging around, he half expected to see the door knocked off its hinges and the precious rock gone. Instead, everything was sealed up tight with guards stationed outside as usual. Nothing amiss.

  
"Anybody come down here?" he demanded, glaring at the nearest guard. The latter shook his head immediately.

  
"Not a soul."

 

* * *

 

 

_It was an ear-splitting howl that had Noctis's eyes snapping open just in time to see the daemons writhing in misery. He was still too weak to do more than prop himself up on his uninjured elbow, but his eyelids obeyed him as he watched the creatures that had once seemed so powerful being laid low by…_

  
_He didn't know._

  
_Something felt different. It wasn't just the way the monsters were suddenly less impressive--Noctis could feel the change in the depths of his chest, a warmth that came from somewhere he couldn't quite fathom. It was like the Pryna in his other dream--hallucination?--had scavenged the light out of the real world to send it here..._

_But that was impossible. ...Wasn't it?_

  
_Maybe the Crystal had something to do with it. Maybe he was just losing whatever was left of his sanity._

  
Maybe I should stop sitting here and actually do something.

  
_That was probably the best course of action. So, with far less effort than he’d needed before, Noctis rose to his feet and summoned his father's sword once more. The daemons didn't seem to register his approach, which would make it all the easier to waste every last one of them._

 **  
** Let's do this.

 

_And he did. For the rest of his life--if he even remembered this crazy ass dream, of course--he wouldn't be able to put his finger on what it was that gave him the strength to keep going. He'd never know why the daemons suddenly stopped popping up like sylleblossoms in season. It just...happened. He had to be grateful for that._

 

 _By the time he’d managed to dispatch them all, he felt almost normal. His arm still stung and he was aching in places he didn't think existed in real life, but he'd_ done it _. That was worth the way his chest cramped up with each breath._

 

_"That was scary," Carbuncle said via text, and Noctis couldn't help but nod emphatically in agreement._

  
“ _Why were they here?" he wondered aloud. "I wasn't attacked by a daemon this time."_

 

_It was silent for a long minute. If a fox could look pensive, Noctis thought Carbuncle would have put them all to shame. When his phone finally went off, he frowned down at the message in confusion._

  
_"Maybe they're still there, only this time, the daemons aren't monsters."_

  
_Noctis shook his head. "What does that mean?"_

  
_"There's lots of darkness in the world, Noct. Not all of it looks like the daemons you're used to."_

  
_With that, Carbuncle set off once more, leaving a puzzled and frustrated Noctis in his wake._

 

How can daemons _not_ be monsters...?

  
_He could ponder it later. Right now, he just wanted to get out of here before any other creatures tried to kill him._


	8. Aches and Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis wakes from his fever, but has a secret to hide and with three days left, the realisation that he'll have to act on his orders is something Prompto is struggling to ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer chapter for you guys. Three days left until shit hits the fan aaaah! Things are getting tense!

The evening passed by smoothly; or well, as smoothly as it could have done. Despite his better judgement, Prompto hadn't attended the technology event. Technology was awesome, it really was! But after the events of the morning, he'd found himself thinking only of collapsing in bed and chilling on his phone. So, against Loqi's complaints, he wearily spent the evening trying to ignore the flips and turns of his stomach, or the pounding headache originating from his cheek. It was like one of those nasty colds from Gralea; except it just hurt ten times worse. And there was no miracle potion to get rid of it without Verstael noticing.  
  
At some point he must have fallen asleep.   
  
_"Strength. Inadequate. Speed. Above average. Swords. Inadequate. Axes. Inadequate. Test scores. Inadequate."_   
  
_The man stood before him read from the list in his hand, with each new line his frown only increased. The bitter cold snapped at Prompto's eyes as he raised a hand to shield them from the harsh snowy wind, shuffling his small feet against the snow as he listened. There were four men in front of him. One, a lead scientist. The other three were training assistants._   
  
_"Overall, inadequate. Though you seem to be skilled with a gun." The man mused, before turning to his colleagues._   
  
_"Hand me your weapon." He demanded, holding out a hand for it; to which the employee quickly placed his gun. The scientist turned back to Prompto before kneeling to the boys height and holding out the gun._   
  
_"Last chance. Take it. Shoot my friend here."_   
  
_What?_   
  
_Prompto blinked at the order, hesitating. It clearly wasn't the reaction that the man wanted, as a sneer crept onto his expression. "Now."_   
_  
_ Prompto could barely recall taking that gun in hand. Fear and dread gripped his every movement but.. An order was an order, right? Clasping both hands around it and raising it above himself; for he wasn't exactly tall for his age, he pointed it at..

 _The scientist._   
  
_"You little shit!" Verstael growled. "Follow and obey; that's all you're good for. You are a tool of the Empire', act like one!"_   
  
_Prompto turned the gun on the other colleague; who took a step back in horror and began to try and reason with Verstael. It was too little, too late._   
  
Prompto pulled the trigger   
  
With a sharp intake of horrified breath, that ultimately lead to coughing, Prompto jerked awake suddenly in bed, breathing heaving as he tried to remind himself. He wasn't in Gralea. He wasn't a child. This was Insomnia. He'd come here as an envoy..   
  
He'd come here as an assassin.   
  
He'd come here to kill the prince.   
  
It was that thought alone that had him rushing to the bathroom; just in time for his stomach to empty itself with near to no warning. Whether it was the dream, the exhaustion or the upcoming orders that had him throwing up, he didn't know.   
  
It took a good half an hour for him to recover, shaking slightly as he seated himself on the cold tile floor. The room was still dark, so he hadn't been asleep long; it was a Six-send that Loqi hadn't heard him wake.

He wasn't sure how much longer he'd been sat there after that, eventually moving into the other room and seating himself back on the bed. Reaching for his phone and flicking the screen on only confirmed that it was still the early hours of the morning, and thus Prompto did his best to ignore his churning stomach, aching limbs and sore head as he led back against the pillows; closing his eyes and willing sleep once more.

For a while, it worked, but...

That sleep had been patchy at best; and even that was an overstatement. With the combined pain of his stomach, and the bruise on his face - which was still there, in all it's damned glory - Prompto had given up on the endeavour in the early hours of the morning. Much to Loqi's distaste, he'd then decided to try and catch a few photographs of the garden with the morning sun over it. There were two good times in a day to take photographs; when the light was warm and soft in the morning and in the evening. As such, he'd settled himself down by one of the trees and spent some time snapping photos of the surrounding flora and occasional butterfly.  
  
It didn't take long for the previous feline to join him, and so there he sat: cat lounged across his lap (luckily he'd had the sense not to wear the formal attire) whilst he flicked through photographs on his phone. Not just the ones of Insomnia, but also the ones of Gralea. There was something about seeing the snowy capital that evoked a pang of sadness within him; a reminder that he wouldn't see that snow again unless he completed his task. That very task that he now only had four days to think over.

 

* * *

 

 

Waking up was so surreal. It felt like he'd been gone so long that _this_ was the dream and the labyrinth in his mind was reality. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that a dream was the only way his father would be by his side, holding his hand when he probably had a million better things to be doing. He would have thought that only in dreams would he be surrounded by the people he loved like he mattered more than just the crown he would one day wear. Ignis was smiling in relief; even Gladio looked ready to fall over at the sight of him awake and alert. His dad almost cried.

Maybe he did--Noctis couldn't see since he covered his face with a hand.

Even though he'd left Carbuncle's companionship behind, the latter's final words flashing repeatedly through his mind even in the waking world, there was a warmth in his chest that made him feel like he could do anything.

Except stand up, apparently.

Noctis had needed his father's sudden arm around his waist when his knees nearly gave out. Every limb was shaky, and Ignis said it was only to be expected when he was recovering from such a high fever. According to the mirror, he had a point. Noctis's hair hung lank and dull over his eyes where they were set within dark, bruise-like shadows. Even _getting_ to the mirror took more of his father's support than he wanted to admit. Gladio tried to step in, but his dad was surprisingly adamant. Noctis wasn't complaining, though; it gave them some time alone for his father to say what Noctis least wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he argued automatically. His dad only shook his head sadly.

"Had I known this would happen, I never would have allowed it."

"It was the best way. You said so, too."

"I have been wrong before."

Noctis rolled his eyes, regretting it instantly when his head swam and he needed to sit again. "Dad, this was my choice."

That was the end of it, albeit grudgingly so, and they returned to his room together before his father took his leave to tend to matters he'd apparently been ignoring.

Gladio wasn't far behind, ordering Noctis to get some rest and then leaving to check in on Iris. Noctis tried, but his long sleep left him feeling restless, like he might fall back into that place again if he closed his eyes.

So, after about an hour of watching Ignis idly tidying things he'd cleaned up already, he suggested they take a walk around the gardens.

Ignis being Ignis, he immediately countered, "Strenuous physical activity may very well aggravate your condition."

"Aaaaand sitting here staring at the wall will just aggravate _me_ ," he snorted. "Come on, Specs. I won't overdo it, and if I get tired, I promise to tell you."

The raised eyebrow he got for that was well deserved. So maybe he wasn't very good at telling people when he wasn't doing great, but he was willing to make a concession this time. There really wasn't any other way to get what he wanted, so it would be a worthy sacrifice. Besides, he wasn't sick anymore. He was _fine_ , perfectly capable of moving around the Citadel.

 ...Noctis might have overestimated himself.

They barely made it out to the gardens before he was short of breath and attempting to hide the way his knees knocked together beneath his baggy sweatpants. (He couldn't leave his room in pajamas with the Niffs around, so they were the next best option.) Ignis was kind enough not to say _I told you so_ , but Noctis could hear it in his exasperated huff all the same.

 Miraculously, he didn't recommend they go back inside right away. Instead he reached an arm out pointedly so that Noctis could grab hold and lean on him for support. _Embarrassing_ wasn't really a strong enough word to cover the whole situation; he tried not to let it show on his face, though. Ignis could have turned them right back around rather than appease him with his assistance. If it was a little more support than either of them were expecting, they weren't about to mention it.

They had carried on a bit further when Noctis felt it--the strange twinge of _something_ that had driven the daemons in his dream insane and brought him back from the brink. Shaking his head, he glanced around the gardens as though he might find the source of the disturbance.

All he saw, however, was Prince Prompto.

That was...odd. But then again, Prompto had been part of his weird fever dream. ...Hadn't he?

 Noctis would never understand what made him nudge Ignis in Prompto's direction, but they made their way over to where he sat beneath one of the larger trees. It was lucky that they were moving too slowly to make much noise, because if they did, he knew without a doubt that he never would have gotten a chance to catch a glimpse of the other prince's phone.

_Wow…_

Was that Gralea? Sheesh, it was no wonder the Niffs were always dressed like they were about to greet the Glacian. Still, it wasn't the image as much as the quality that struck Noctis.

Prompto had been on the same photograph for a good couple of minutes, mind elsewhere as he recalled the conversations he'd had with the other Niflheim representatives; particularly with Verstael. He'd have to act on the same evening that they left the City; so surely they wouldn't know if he refused his orders? Then again, Loqi remained. What if Loqi had orders to 'dispose' of him if he didn't complete his task; that wasn't exactly out of the question - and Prompto had no doubt that the Commander would be far more willing to follow orders than he was. Biting gently on the inside of his cheek in thought, he was so caught up in his own mind that he didn't hear the two approach until a familiar voice spoke.

"Nice picture," Noctis murmured appreciatively as they rounded the trunk. "You take it yourself?"

Almost immediately, the blond near jumped out of his skin in surprise- dropping the phone in the process onto the cat in his lap. It gave him one hell of a glare, one that would put even Ifrit to shame, as he tried to retrieve the phone.

"M-Make some noise when you walk up to someone!" Prompto blurted, trying to calm his heart rate down. Six, he hadn't been expecting that. Finally, the Prince's words settled in his mind and he looked back to the photo. "Oh, uh, yeah. I did." On one of the rare occasions he'd been able to sneak out, that was.

Nodding awkwardly, Noctis figured he should make some kind of effort and gestured towards his phone. His words were silted, but hey, he was trying here. "It's really good. Amazing, actually."

"Thanks, I guess." Prompto nodded, sheepishly turning his attention back to the irritated feline in his lap; though not before he noticed the slight struggle that Noctis had in order to sit down next to him, leaving him to wonder exactly whether something had happened - it would explain the King's absence from the Niflheim envoy the previous day. Then again, Prompto had been just absent. Still, he didn't comment on it, already a tad too confused as to why Noctis was talking to him at all - considering how much of an arse Prompto had tried to be. _Tried_.

It was fairly presumptuous, but there was something telling Noctis that he could sit down and join this person he still didn't trust. That something shared a voice with the guardian who came to him in his dreams, so he hoped it wasn't too off base. Ignis once again didn't comment, wordlessly assisting Noctis so that he could _sit_ instead of _collapse_ . He still looked pretty graceless as Ignis helped lower him to the ground, but it could have been a lot worse. 

The remorse of startling Prompto weighed heavily on him; the last thing they needed was to make the other prince shut down when they still needed some answers. This picture thing might be the best way to get them, so he chuckled, "I'm not so good with a camera. Ignis always complains."

"The pictures would be quite passable if not for how many include your thumb," his chamberlain shot back from where he'd stepped aside to wait. Noctis rolled his eyes and jerked a thumb towards him.

"You see what I have to deal with?"

Hearing the two bicker like that though, only made Prompto laugh. "Dude, now imagine having _Loqi_ instead. Guy doesn't know how to smile."

Noctis was unspeakably glad that Prompto directed the conversation. If he hadn't, it was very likely that Noctis would have commented on just how shitty he looked. The shiner was bad enough, but his skin was even paler than usual under the constellation of his freckles. It looked like Noctis wasn't the only one who'd been sick, but he didn't doubt that it was for _very_ different reasons.

Laughing at the comment about Loqi came easily, and Noctis nodded in sympathetic agreement. "He annoys the hell out of Gladio. Not that he's much better sometimes--I swear he gets off on telling me how bad I am at stuff."

Fighting, thinking like a monarch, _functioning_ \--Gladio didn't really differentiate. There was always something he could be doing better, in his Shield's opinion. If Noctis didn't know it came from a good place, he would have _hated_ Gladio for it. After all these years, though, he could overlook a lot to see that it was tough love. _Really_ tough.

"Pretty sure he was ready to storm out when you sent your Shield over to him the other day; I swear, I didn't know his face could make that expression!" Prompto snorted, shaking his head at the memory. Loqi had looked so, _so_ pissed off when Gladio had stepped over and made some comment about the prince's fighting style. It had been both a genius plan, and the most beautifully funny thing to watch unfold, despite his attention having been on passing notes like a highschooler.

"Still, he's not _that_ bad, like-.." Prompto trailed off, almost catching himself saying 'the others are way worse' but luckily halting just in time. "Well, not that bad really."

It was obvious there was more to that statement, but like Prompto's eye, Noctis wasn't about to ask. They were finally having a civil conversation that hadn't ended prematurely in hurt feelings or thoughts of homicide (at least not for him), so this was a course they probably wanted to stay on. If everything went as planned, Noctis would find out the rest soon enough anyway.

"Can't be fun all the time, I guess," he shrugged, leaning back against the tree and hoping his exhaustion wasn't evident in his expression. If Ignis caught even the slightest whiff of weariness, he'd probably have Noctis back in his bed before the latter had a chance to yawn.

With a wan smile, Noctis continued, "I keep telling Gladio that he'd be a lot cooler if he were more like this character from a game I play, but he just says he'd be a _rare, not a spare_ .” He snorted at the quote, rolling his eyes. The reference would probably be lost on Prompto--did they even have _King's Knight_ in Niflheim?--but it made him chuckle anyway.

"Hah, think Loqi reckons he's totally a five-star character." Prompto joked, not quite thinking those words through. It took a moment before he paused, blinked, and turned his attention to Noctis. "Wait- You play King's Knight?" he asked, surprise leaking into his tone.

In all honesty, Prompto didn't often have the opportunity to play it, but it had been on his phone since he'd gotten it a few years back. There had been the occasional spare moment where he'd managed to sneak a five minute break or two during training in Gralea to play, or snuck off to the library to do so there. It was a miracle no one had caught him slacking off like that; but it was harder to do so under the eyes of the Empire whilst in Insomnia.

Blinking, Noctis nodded and felt a smile pull up at the corner of his mouth. Maybe they weren't as different as he'd thought…

_Don't get ahead of yourself. He's still a Niff, and a tricky one, at that._

That brought him right back down to earth, and he struggled to keep his smile from seeming strained as he replied, "Hell yeah. Been working on the new expansion bosses for the last couple of weeks."

The ones before the war ended, when it seemed like everything was going to be okay.

Yeah, _those_ weeks.

"What about you?" Noctis asked, pushing all of his darker thoughts to the back of his mind. "Do you and Loqi play a lot?"

Shaking his head, Prompto chuckled. "Loqi doesn't; all duty, no fun and all that. Unless it involves flirting with attendants, apparently," he shrugged. The Commander had a habit of smooth talking attendants whilst on duty - something he was sure Verstael must have picked up on by now. For some reason he didn't scold Loqi, though.

"Never mind," Noctis laughed. "Maybe Loqi and Gladio would get along after all."

Flirting was something that came naturally to Gladio, but when you were built like a tank, Noctis figured that was only to be expected. For him, it was a lot harder. Some princes might be into the whole royal lifestyle where people fawn all over you, but Noctis didn't like the idea of meeting someone who only liked him for his title. It was difficult enough finding _friends_ for that reason; he wasn't about to throw himself into the dating pool until it was absolutely necessary. Sure, he'd have to marry and have an heir one day, but he had his whole life ahead of him for that. No rush.

"Uh, I do though - though my level _totally_ sucks." And wasn't that an understatement.

Noctis pulled out his phone with a slow grin. "Well... We could always work on your level, if you want. I can go easy on you."

"Really?" Prompto blinked, almost certain he'd heard that offer wrong. Perhaps he was far too used to being let down, or rudely shoved aside lately that he'd failed to realise that not everyone saw him as a tool.

“Definitely.”

Prompto moved his hand back to his phone - mindful of the cat - and tapped on the app icon to load up King's Knight. Verstael would be in meetings until later that day, which gave him plenty of time to slack off without being caught. Six, he briefly wondered where Loqi had gone as the blond was nowhere in sight, yet his attention was far too distracted by the possibility of actually playing the game in front of him _with_ someone.

Noctis was going to ignore Ignis's exasperated sigh. He enjoyed _King's Knight_ no matter how often he argued the opposite. It was sort of inevitable given how frequently Noctis had forced him to play over the years. Growing up in the Citadel meant his contact with the outside world was strictly monitored and limited to what the Crownsguard (see: _Cor_ ) felt was appropriate. As such, he hadn't been allowed to play with people online lest they discover his identity and mean him harm. Ignis had always felt pretty bad for reinforcing those rules, so he'd played with Noctis as compensation. He'd also lost miserably--a _lot_ \--which drove him to play _more_ so he could save face.

Meaning he had absolutely no reason to huff incredulously like that.

"All right," Noctis said once he was logged in. "Let's do this."

With that, the remainder of the morning passed swiftly on into early afternoon. As Prompto had said, he was a ridiculously low level - though seemed happy enough to accept the help to grind experience points. There wasn't the slightest sign of his stuck-up persona throughout, acting more like the young adult he was supposed to be; honestly a child at heart, really. It was so easy to forget his impending duties whilst playing as it honestly offered a separate reality where things like that just didn't matter.

Noctis, unfortunately, wasn't quite as lucky.

_Not again... Not now…_

The nausea-tinged exhaustion was returning the longer they played. Not for the first time, Noctis wondered if this was his new reality. The months he'd spent bedridden and miserable as a child felt like they were returning with a vengeance now. Every time his head dipped forward, with each long blink, Noctis wanted to do nothing more than curl up in his bed and never get up again.

But he couldn't do that. He'd done this to himself, and there was no going back. All he had to do was hide it from sight and live with it.

At some point during a dungeon grind, Prompto finally piped up again to speak, genuine curiosity in his tone.  
  
"So uh, what's the city like?" He asked. Honestly, asides from the guided tours, he hadn't exactly been given the opportunity to look around. Especially with Verstael breathing down his neck the whole time.

Hearing that question was a relief. Having something to focus on kept Noctis’s mind active even when his body was desperately begging for a nap.

"It's...big," Noctis began lamely. He'd never really thought about how to describe _home_ to someone who had never seen it before. "We've got stores for everything--clothes, games, stuff from beyond the Wall when we can get it. The diners are awesome. You can get these kabobs from Galahd that are amazing. There are arcades and parks... We've got a huge library. Specs gets upset it's bigger than the one here."

The chamberlain in question tutted before muttering, "One would think that the literal seat of government would have a more comprehensive collection."

"He gets bitter," Noct commented without heat. Growing up with Ignis meant being used to his quirks; it went both ways, as well. "What about Gralea? I've...never been outside the Wall. Most of us haven't, so it's kinda hard to imagine other places."

He found it hard to believe that they were very similar. It was probably selfish, but he'd grown up hearing that the empire's technology required sacrifices in other areas that made the place a real dump. Noctis shuddered to think of what those might be.

Insomnia really did sound amazing; there was no denying just how beautiful it was either. From what Prompto had seen, the city was absolutely flawless in terms of architecture and design, the crystal dappled a constant array of lights over the tallest of buildings which was almost intoxicating to watch. Prompto nodded as Noctis' explained the city, letting a brief smile fall over his expression as Ignis joined in with his small complaint about the Citadel's library. What he hadn't thought through however, was that he'd just opened himself up to a question that really, really couldn't be answered.  
  
Gralea? He didn't know. Prompto had could count on one hand the number of times he'd managed to sneak out of the Keep. Sure, he'd been outside on business; on duty, but that was more often than not around the border for training, not within the civilian areas. He was lucky he had photographs of the city at all; and that was partly why he cherished them so much.   
  
"It's uh-.." Prompto began, trying to recall from the smallest bits of it that he knew. Okay, basics Prompto. Start with the basics. "Well, cold, and pretty big I guess." ..He guessed, damn, bad choice of words there.

Cold.

Big.

That was definitely...descriptive. A furtive glance over at Ignis told him that he wasn't the only one thrown off by it either. The hesitation in Prompto's tone and body language set Noctis on edge. Although he hadn't given away much that the empire didn't already know, he'd managed to at least describe the good things the city had to offer. It wasn't like Niflheim didn't know they had stuff from outside the Wall--that was what half their trade agreement had been about, after all--and the rest could be inferred just from the size of the Crown City.   
But Prompto didn't seem to want to share much of anything about Gralea. Was it that he might get in trouble for talking too much about a place Lucis had little intelligence on? Or was it that he didn't trust Noctis to listen without putting down his home?

Or was there something about Gralea that they weren't supposed to know?

Noctis wanted to believe that they were starting to make some progress, but now he wasn't so sure.

"It...can be hard to describe where you live sometimes, right?" he ended up murmuring cautiously. "You just get used to how things are and can't really put it into words."

Great job Prompto, really nailed that, he reprimanded to himself. Chances were he'd just managed to screw up any trust the Prince had begun to have in him by being unable to describe the city. Even the smallest things; he didn't even know how big it was. Well, he'd totally screwed up. The only thing he could describe was- ..

"The er, Keep is pretty cool. I mean, super complicated to get around; they've even got maps scattered on most floors and stuff." He could describe the Keep. Though that probably seemed odd; describing the most protected area of Gralea whilst being unable to describe the city itself.

Whatever. He couldn't care less if he got scolded for this later. "It's uh, really tall too. Bit like the Citadel here, there's a main elevator that runs up the centre. Used to uh, freak me out as a kid." That, and the MTs, crazy scientists.. There were a lot of things in Zegnautus that would freak anyone out.

"Lots of research floors and stuff, though I don't really see those much." Or, when he did, it was usually under circumstances he didn't want to recall.

Noctis _was_ just going to let it go; that seemed like what Prompto wanted. Then the latter started talking.

And talking.

And _talking_.

It was so unexpected that Noctis almost couldn't keep up. Fortunately, Ignis would be keeping a verbatim record of what Noctis had missed in his head to peruse later, which was probably for the best. Analyzing the information right now would only make it look like Noctis was digging--wasn't he, though?--and that would make Prompto shut down. There would be time for that later.

For now, he could take a moment to be appalled at the idea of Zegnautus Keep.

"That sounds like a scary place for a kid," he muttered, wincing at his own honesty. "I mean, I can get why you were freaked out. Being around a bunch of labs and stuff? Definitely creepy."

And probably more than just bordering on abuse if Prompto's eye was any indication of what he'd endured before.

_Niffs... They really are the worst._

"Nah, it's alright; guess I just got used to it." Prompto grinned, not quite realising just how true those words were to himself.  
  
Zegnautus Keep was impressive as a structure, though the corridors were confusing and often power failures plunged sections into pure darkness. There were the occasional daemon outbreaks in some of the lower wings, though Prompto had never come face to face with one, they were usually cleared up quickly. As a child, sure, it had frightened him. But he'd soon learned that the Keep itself was harmless; it was the people in it he needed to be wary of. Or the _things_ in it.   
  
"Niflheim kind of runs on technological experimentation, I guess. It's pretty awesome, some of the machinery that's built, that is."

 _I'll bet it's awesome. That's why you guys won the war, right?_ Noctis decidedly didn't say. He was about to--the bitter taste of the words was already on his lips--when he caught sight of Ignis's expression and looked back down at his phone. His advisor was an expert in silent, subtle communication. It definitely made things easier on so many levels.

For example, keeping his mouth shut.

Apart from the apparently amazing level of their experimentation (which was already suspicious as it was), the whole thing sounded terrible. Noctis kept that to himself and grinned at the things he couldn't change.

"Gralea sounds pretty different than here," he mused.

Different. That was one way of putting it. Despite the grin he could see on Prince Noctis' face, Prompto knew he'd managed to cause some tension with his words - already regretting changing the topic to their cities. Six, why did he always fuck the most basic of things up.  
  
He wasn't entirely sure what to say in return; absently busying himself with fussing the sleeping furball on his lap, the cat purring rather loudly at the attention.

Great. Once again, they'd taken two steps back. Noctis mentally cursed himself for somehow managing to set Prompto off _again_.

All he could do for a while was wallow and watch the other prince toy with the ball of fluff that had taken up residence in his lap. Despite the debacle with the stray dog, he seemed quite at ease with animals--maybe more so than with humans. Noctis wasn't a cat, much as Ignis and Gladio joked that he slept enough to be, but there was one thing he could do that a pet couldn't.

"So, anyway... We've got a pretty good arcade not too far from the Citadel," he mumbled, pulling up blades of grass to give himself something to do. "Not sure if you've got any in Gralea, but we could always give it a shot sometime. If you want."

Prompto blinked; not entirely sure he'd heard Noctis right the first time. Sure, they'd just spent a good part of the afternoon playing _King's Knight_ together, but with the way their conversation had just fallen apart, the last thing Prompto had expected was for the Prince to suggest doing something else together.

He'd been to an arcade once in Gralea; though admittedly against orders, as he'd slipped out of the Keep unnoticed that day to explore a bit. As such, he was glad he had a little bit of a grasp of what to expect. "What, really?"

"Sure," Noctis shrugged casually, his shoulders aching at the effort.

A furtive glance at Ignis was enough to reassure him that he was doing the right thing, whatever the reason might be. It was pretty bad, but he thought he already knew what his advisor would say: getting away from the Citadel might lull Prompto into a more malleable state to reveal what was going on if he was up to something, and if he wasn't, it might help to coax out some of the humanity that he was increasingly prone to. Either way, it was a win.

So, Noctis smiled with the easy grace of someone who had been trained to do it on command and observed, "I'm supposed to show you all the important stuff, right? Well, doesn't get much more important than that."

It was a joke, but Noctis wouldn't deny that if arcades could replace diplomatic records, he'd show Prompto every one in the goddamn city.

Prompto’s mind was reeling. One problem: how the hell was he supposed to do that when Verstael was near adamant that Loqi watch him the entire time. Though.. he had no idea where the Commander was right now; maybe the other blond had finally decided watching the Prince wasn't as fun as flirting with attendants.

"Sweet, when, though?" Something in the back of his mind reminded him yet again that there were only three more days until he'd have to act on his orders.

Now there was a good question: _when_?

Today would definitely be a mistake given that he was already fighting his heavy eyelids for dominance, and Noctis doubted very much that he'd be feeling much better tomorrow. Besides that, they would both be sequestered in the final diplomatic meetings of Niflheim's stay for much of the day, so going out was probably stretching their schedules a little too far. 

"How about the day after tomorrow?" Noctis suggested. "That way we get all the boring politics out of the way first. Nothing to stress about."

That wasn't strictly true. Maybe Prompto would have nothing hanging over his head except potential disappointment from the empire, but Noctis's entire kingdom was literally in the balance. One wrong step would bring Niflheim down on them like a pack of hungry voretooths, and that was only if they weren't already planning to do just that. Still, they wouldn't have to worry about keeping up appearances for their various superiors. It would also give Noctis another day to acclimate to his new circumstances, which he definitely needed.

"I'm guessing you probably need the time to get Loqi on board, right?" he asked, already thinking about Gladio. He wasn't going to like this idea, especially when Noctis wasn't at his best--not at _all_ …

"Dude, you seriously want Loqi and your Shield in the same vicinity again?" Prompto laughed. "Then again, it's totally funny seeing Loqi so wound up around him."

Noctis had to laugh at the idea of Gladio and Loqi standing within three feet of each other much less the same room, although he wasn't sure whether it would end in annoyance like last time or a bloodbath in the middle of the arcade. After a few days of hosting the Niffs, Noctis was leaning towards the latter. He wasn't too concerned, however--Gladio would win regardless. It was probably better not to comment on that, though.  
  
Despite the fact Prompto had stood up for Loqi a few nights prior, he was by far from considering him an ally. If Loqi had an order to kill him, Prompto had little doubt the Commander wouldn't even bat an eyelid at it; so desperate to climb ranks in the army. Then again, was Prompto any better? The idea of spending a day so casually with the Prince before carrying out his own orders on the following one.. That didn't sit right with him at all. Still, he didn't let such thoughts show on his expression.   
  
"Sweet. Just got to survive those meetings, then." Prompto nodded, grinning.

"Easier said than done," Noctis replied, leaning back against the tree and closing his eyes. "Just _thinking_ about it makes me sleepy."

Among other things, but that was just something else that could wait for another time.

"Oh come on, at least you understand what's going on in them." Prompto pointed out, rolling his eyes dramatically for effect. He'd spent most of the meetings 'observing' or rather, zoning out. As much as he wanted to understand the politics between Niflheim and Lucis, it wasn't his job to. Ironically. It wasn't the prince of Niflheim's job to know about his own country. It sounded stupid to even think it. 

"I do believe His Highness relies heavily on the expertise of his advisors in that regard."

Leave it to Ignis to call him out when Noctis was finally getting some credit from the empire's prince. Now he had to open his eyes just to roll them.

"I get _some_ of it," he muttered. If it wouldn't have been glaringly unprofessional, he knew Ignis would have scoffed. His raised eyebrow was bad enough, and Noctis grumbled incoherently for a minute before looking away with a huff. There would be no point in continuing an argument he definitely couldn't win.

Ignis must have been feeling merciful, because he cleared his throat pointedly and recommended, "As a matter of fact, I believe it's time for Your Highness to go over those informational dockets I brought this morning? They will be invaluable to tomorrow's events." 

At first , Noctis had no idea what he meant and opened his mouth to point that out. One subtle glance later, he realized what this was: his exhaustion must have been showing, and now Ignis wanted to spirit him back to his room before Prompto noticed too much.   
Helpful, but really annoying.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice," sighed Noctis rather than complaining. It was already another lost debate. Turning to Prompto, he offered a quick smile. "Could always work on _King's Knight_. That way we're more evenly matched next time."

"Well, pretty sure I'm stuck here until my apparently-new-best-friend decides to move! Might aswell start now."  
  
Prompto chuckled, gesturing to the cat in his lap. He wasn't complaining though; any more time he spent outside with the feline was a chance of avoiding any sudden meetings with Verstael or the rest of the envoy. It was already nearing evening - they'd spent a good amount of time outside - so it was actually quite refreshing to be out in the evening air. Part of him was relieved that Noctis had something to do - guilt was tugging at the back of his mind, a constant reminder that was making him uncomfortable.

"She definitely likes you," Noctis replied with a smile. "Usually they run off, so take that as a compliment."

He had been preparing to stand as he said it only to discover one very unfortunate thing: his legs weren't working. Again.

Waiting for Prompto's attention to revert to the cat, Noctis shot a vaguely panicked look at Ignis and inconspicuously tried to use the tree as support with mixed results. Fortunately, Ignis was by his side in a moment, his face drawn in a concerned frown. There was no way to maneuver without making it obvious, so they both acted as casually as possible while Ignis slipped a hand around Noctis's waist and helped (see: _hauled_ ) him to his feet. The world tilted dangerously once he was there but righted itself a moment later. This _had_ to pass soon...right?

"Guess we'll see you tomorrow," he said with a weak smile, waving slightly as Ignis commenced guiding him back towards the door.

Prompto noticed, of course he did. But he also knew when to keep his mouth shut; when to pretend he hadn't seen anything. Instead, he busied himself with fussing the cat as he swiped onto the King's Knight app in his other hand. As Noctis spoke though, he glanced up once more - grinning and nodding. "Yeah, sure." Six, he knew how to land himself in awkward situations.

It wasn't until they were far out of earshot that Ignis whispered, "You've overexerted yourself."

"It was worth it, wasn't it?"

"One planned outing is hardly what I would deem _worth it_."

Noctis shook his head but didn't respond. If this was his new status quo, then he couldn't sit around just because he didn't feel well. Something had to give, and he could finally feel the wall beginning to crumble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll be glad to know the next chapter is twice the size of this, at least. Aha xD  
> Can't wait to post it though! We're super hyped for you guys to see what goes down :D


	9. Murder Most Foul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Prompto prepares to commit the ultimate betrayal, Noctis realizes that the cost of ruling is never cheap regardless of who sits the throne.

"--ct? Noctis, wake up."

Groaning, Noctis tried to roll over only to find that his muscles weren't ready to obey him yet. It was barely a moment later when the room erupted into light beyond his eyelids, and his arm reflexively shot up to cover his face.

"It's time to wake up, Noct."

"Five more minutes..."

"I've already allowed you an extra hour. If you don't start dressing now, you'll be late for the summit."

Well. That did absolutely nothing to motivate him at all.

"Do I have to be there?" he mumbled into his pillow. Ignis was well versed in his early morning language and sighed accordingly.

"You do."

"Dammit."

"Indeed."

What followed was a chaotic mess of limbs, showers, and unhelpful assistance from one very exasperated advisor. By the time they were ready to leave, Noctis was mainly prepared only to go back to bed. That wasn't an option, though, so they trudged toward the council chambers--or Noctis did. Ignis strolled as leisurely as though he were wandering the grounds. Noctis, on the other hand, felt like he'd run a marathon by the time they made it within view of the door and that he should get a medal for his effort.

It would have been more of an accomplishment if they weren't ten minutes late when Ignis opened the door and all eyes didn't jump to them, but he wasn't going to beat himself up over it.

\--

Prompto hadn't slept; and certainly cursed his body for it. He'd groggily managed to make his way to the council chambers on time - dressed in the usual formal attire that honestly felt even more suffocating than the last time he'd worn it. Loqi had returned in the morning; practically having walked on the Prince's heels and even now stood a tad too close for comfort behind Prompto's seat. Had he done something wrong? Probably not. Niflheim were just on edge; in two days they'd have their opening to strike at Insomnia: something that could only be achieved if Prompto had the guts to pull a trigger.

Across the room, somehow, Noctis managed to avoid a rebuke from his father. It was probably Ignis's intervention he had to thank for that; in his rush, Noctis had distantly noticed him sending a text message that he now assumed had gone to the king’s chamberlain. If it kept him from earning his father's disappointment, even given the circumstances Ignis would have had to divulge, he'd take it.

As if in confirmation, his dad let him sit out most of the meeting. The details being drawn up were mainly more specific negotiations of things that he'd helped with at their last gathering anyway, so it wasn't like he hadn't contributed to the proceedings. Even if he wasn't required to actively participate, however, he thought it would be rather gauche to sleep through the meeting and desperately wished for something to use as a distraction.

Luckily, he remembered after a while that there was one sitting a few feet away, just as ignored as he was. Today didn't have to be a total waste; Ignis would probably even congratulate him for being proactive in his investigation. (Maybe that was going a bit far, but he should.) So, Noctis refused to feel bad about slipping out his phone beneath the table.

_~You get your level up at all?~_

It was a relief when Prompto’s phone buzzed in his pocket, having spent the majority of the meeting so far confused as hell, but doing a decent job of hiding it (apparently Loqi wasn’t going to be offering explanations this time, great).

Considering only one person had his number, he knew exactly who had sent the message. Unfortunately, with Loqi practically breathing down his neck, it took a good few minutes before the Commander was distracted enough for Prompto to slide the device out of his pocket. Balancing it in one hand under the table, he peeked at the text before tapping one back in return; hoping to hell there weren't any awkward spelling errors. Six be damned, he wasn't going to glance down and make his texting obvious.

_~A little, not much! Sorry, totally crashed early.~_

It figured, Noctis mused. Prompto hadn't looked so good either the previous day, so it wasn't too surprising.

_~It's fine, don't apologize. Just curious.~_

He inconspicuously stowed his phone when his father leaned back in his seat with a weary sigh. The negotiations didn't leave Insomnia in a very advantageous position; Noctis could only imagine what he must be feeling as they crossed the Ts and dotted the Is. When he thought it wouldn't be noticed by their counterparts or the envoys, he reached over to squeeze his dad's wrist reassuringly. The latter’s bright-eyed smile, brittle as it was, made the motion worth it. In a sense, he could almost believe he had something to do with the way his father shifted forward again, back straight and ready to continue the verbal battle.

Noctis waited until any attention their interaction may have garnered was diverted once again before texting, _~Still on for the arcade tomorrow? Or is Commander Crankypants not up for it? :/ ~_

It was a good thing he was adept at keeping up his Niff persona, or Prompto would have laughed there and then.

_'You want me to babysit you and the damned prince on a day out?'_

Those had been Loqi's words, near enough. And yet, the Commander had agreed to it in the end - likely because Prompto had hinted towards it being a good chance to get Noctis' advisor and shields guard down. It was a lie; he had little to no intention of using them that way, yet it was enough to get Loqi to agree to the little outing. With a grunt, he'd shut up about it and agreed. Prompto tapped a reply back once he'd checked the blond in question wasn't watching.

_~Nah, it's cool! He's up for it, seriously.~_

Seriously _not_. But oh well.

Noctis doubted it, but he didn't exactly have a whole lot of room to talk. After all, he had been avoiding the subject with Gladio until the absolute last minute just in case his Shield had time to think of all the ways that this could go horribly wrong. Personally, he'd counted about thirty-two; Ignis could probably come up with eighty more. The last thing anyone needed was Gladio getting a chance to add a few things.

_~Great. Gladio's on board, too. Should be fun.~_

_And if he's not_ , Noctis mused silently, _I'll figure out a way to make sure he is_.

_~We should totally just get them to vent out their hate for each other on a dance mat or something,~_ Prompto texted back and just about avoided grinning at the idea, tucking his phone away just in time for Loqi to lean forward; murmuring something low only for the Prince's ears.

Whatever it was, a frown touched at Prompto's expression briefly before he relaxed it back into feigned interest of the meeting. Niflheim were in a position to take everything from Lucis, and they were certainly trying.

Gladio.

Dancing.

... _That_ was a mental image Noctis had neither harbored nor wanted to. Ever. It was bad enough that Gladio couldn't go out without talking up some girl along the way, but the thought of him dancing opened up a whole new side to his Shield that Noctis wasn't quite ready for.

He had half of his next message typed when a gentle nudge from Ignis had him tuning back into the debate. Apparently they were returning to the ridiculous notion of a weapons embargo and had added a new level of humiliation: the empire wanted to search all trade goods that went through the Wall, all but negating any sovereignty Insomnia would appear to maintain. Noctis listened to his father combatting the emperor at every turn, but the old codger was adamant.

The thought made Noctis bristle with indignation. How dare they think they could sign a treaty and immediately act like it handed them the whole damn world? Insomnia had stood as a beacon of light to the nations of Eos for thousands of years, unlike Niflheim. They'd risen from the ashes of a failed kingdom like some kind of parasite, taking what they could get with no thought to the rest of the planet--they only cared for what they could trade, barter, and steal from others--it was inexcusable, _unforgivable_ \--

Prompto was struggling to keep his attention on the meeting, mind already drifting elsewhere. Niflheim was a dreadful place to grow up in. Quite literally a kill-or-be-killed city, the only way to the top was to fight for it. Whether that was politically or physically honestly depended on which Commander you pissed off. Despite his 'royal' lineage, Prompto's upbringing had been no different. He'd never been much of a fighter; so receiving strikes for disobedience or inadequacy had been commonplace. As for politics, they'd be better off trying to teach a chocobo to dance - he couldn't understand them at--

Why was the room shaking?

Prompto blinked out of his thoughts as the room began to shake lightly, causing quite a few of the envoys to glance around in confusion.

Almost as soon as Noctis--and most of the retainers present--realized it, the trembling beneath them stopped. So, he hadn't imagined that, not unless everyone else did too. With a frown, he glanced over to gauge his father's reaction only to find the latter already staring at him. Noctis didn't like that expression, especially when he couldn't read it. He quirked an eyebrow in silent question, but there was no answer forthcoming. The only response he received was a slight twitch at the corner of his dad’s lips before he turned right back to the assemblage.

The moment passed and his father pressed on as if there hadn't been any interruption. The others quickly followed suit, although every now and then someone would glance around like they expected the building to come crashing down around their ears. Noctis might have done the same if he weren't too busy controlling his suddenly shallow breathing.

_It's fine, just a tremor... Happens all the time in Duscae…_

Distraction. He needed a distraction.

_Right_.

Content that he was no longer being scrutinized, Noctis finished his message: _~Don't think Loqi is Gladio's type, but it's an idea.~_

Prompto’s knowledge of Insomnia was lacking, sure, but he was pretty sure earthquakes weren't that common; perhaps more on the mainland. No one else seemed to care as the King continued the meeting, allowing Prompto to check his phone and text back.

Noctis tried to keep from bouncing his leg up and down to no avail. Even with Ignis's light but persistent touches, there was simply no other way to release the nervous tension that had suddenly taken root. What he wouldn't give to return to his bed, where no one would have to watch him fall apart. The worst was that he didn't know _why_.

That was when Prompto's text arrived.

_~Loqi totally flirts with anything that moves. I'd bet on it; but your currency is confusing!~_

Frowning, Noctis automatically typed back, _~Wait, what do you guys use, then?~_

He'd always thought that their currency was fairly simple to understand. Then again, he supposed he could see how a new type of money would be tough to learn for foreigners. Not like he knew much about that--having never ventured outside the Wall, he hadn't been in a position to find out.

Prompto was tempted to take a quick snap of a coin, yet chances were that would only land him in trouble if spotted. Instead he mentally stored a note at the back of his mind to show Noctis later, however typed a reply nonetheless.

_~Gil. I don't know how that like, compares to money here.~_

Sliding the phone into his pocket, he began to notice the meeting drawing to an end, the Insomnian council looking rather miffed to say the least at being pushed around.

_Gil? The hell is a gil?_

Noctis tried to picture it but couldn't visualize anything except disembodied fish gills, which was just...gross. Of course, nothing would surprise him when it came to the empire anymore, particularly the nasty stuff. For Niffs, mutilating fish to extract currency was probably pretty low on the scale of zero to _What The Hell!?_

This would ordinarily be one of the moments when he'd consult his seemingly omnipotent advisor, but the negotiations were beginning to wind down, so it would be less likely to go unnoticed. Noctis made a mental note to ask later.

_~Definitely don't have that around here. Unless you guys cut them off fish, in which case we've got loads.~_

Prompto almost laughed, almost. He hadn't quite thought of the linguistic resemblance between the two words before, but he had to admit it was odd to think about. Six knew why they'd named their currency that in the first place. Still, he quickly tapped a reply in whilst no one was looking: _~Perks of being on an island, right?~_

Noctis could definitely agree with that. _~Makes the fishing really good, that's for sure.~_

He just managed to send the text off and slip his phone discreetly back into his pocket before his father stood, reached over the table, and shook hands with the emperor. Doing so had to take a good bit of effort; Noctis knew just how little his dad could stand the other leader. It showed in the tense line of his shoulders, which would look to anyone else like a regal posture. He knew better. He'd been privy to that expression, that stance, too many times as a kid to mistake it as anything other than contained fury and maybe a little bit of shame.

As soon as his hand was released, the king turned to Noctis and offered a weary smile, squeezing his shoulder gently while the Niffs prepared to exit. All Noctis could do in return was lift a hand to his forearm and reciprocate wordlessly.

_Somehow, we'll get through this_ , he tried to say with his eyes. _I'll make sure of it._

Neither of them moved for a long moment, locked together as retainers shifted around them like the ocean receding from the shore. Everything seemed swept away with them--energy, confidence, strength--until Noctis felt like they were two old men standing on the brink of destruction. Was this how it felt to rule a nation? If it did, he had no idea how his father had borne this burden for so long. It had only been a few days, and already Noctis was bursting at the seams for something other than useless diplomacy.

His dad, however, was familiar with these sorts of occasions and cared little to discuss them outside of official business. No, it appeared there was something else on his mind this time.

"You need to exercise caution, my son," Noctis's father murmured, pulling him away from the dispersing crowd. His face was calm, but Noctis could sense the unease underneath.

"I...have?"

The look he got for that indicated that his father wasn't talking about his dealings with Prompto, which Noctis was fairly certain he was still unaware of. No, this was something else, and his dad's frown bordered on pitying for a reason he could not yet fathom.

Sensing his lack of comprehension, his father cast a glance over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone before whispering hurriedly, "Your decisions have consequences. Your magic has taken on new forms you have neither realized nor prepared for as a result of your actions."

Noctis opened his mouth and then closed it as the confusion in his mind cleared. _The tremors..._

"You... You mean...?"

His father nodded once, his tone solemn when he continued, "It is vital that you tread carefully not only for the collective safety, but for your own as well."

At once, Noctis was no longer speaking to the king, not even in part--his dad's worried frown took precedence as he lifted a hand to cup Noctis's cheek lightly. It was difficult to resist the urge to brush it aside in present company, but he managed.

"I'm fine."

"Clearly," his father hummed skeptically. "How are you adjusting?"

_I feel like shit all the time and just want a nap, but otherwise..._ "I'm getting there."

It was obvious that his father didn't believe him, perhaps out of sheer concern or his own experience with debilitating physical inhibitions. Either way, he mercifully didn't comment further and let the subject drop, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

"We shall endure this, Noctis. Together."

Noctis had to swallow hard around the lump that lodged itself in his throat, nodding. "I know."

Across the room, the last thing Prompto had expected was for Aldercapt to nod in his direction: a subtle gesture requesting the prince to approach.

Stood aside Verstael, he waited at the door as Prompto made his way over; gulping down on a building fear whilst his expression remained as falsely cocky and confident as ever. As he spoke, Aldercapt waved one hand around to illustrate his words - a smug look on his face.

"I do hope you will strive to do your best, in the coming days." To anyone else that probably sounded innocent enough; his studies were his cover and he was expected to learn as much about Insomnia as possible. To Prompto though, no, that was a 'don't forget your orders'. Aldercapt continued: "I would so hate to be disappointed, after all we've managed together already."

With that, the Emperor returned to the envoy, leaving Prompto stood awkwardly with Loqi just behind.

"We should-" Loqi started, but Prompto cut in.

"Yeah, I uh, know." There was no point waiting around now the meeting had finished.

\--

The rest of the evening passed by swiftly, and luckily Prompto had found time to relax in his room. The tremors were back in his hands, something he refused to let any of the Insomnian council see during the morning. It was stupid. The fortifiers and enhancers were commonplace among Niflheim's army, yet his body seemed to struggle from withdrawal after such short periods of time. Prompto wasn't particularly smart when it came to Niflheim's research, and hadn't questioned his orders to receive any of the vials - partially because there wasn't a choice in it - yet now, he was led on the covers of his bed as his stomach flipped uncomfortably and his hands shook despite his grasp on the sheet beneath. Either the room was getting warmer, or he was. He wasn't sure which. It was uncomfortable, painful.

He barely heard the door open as Loqi returned. With one arm lazily resting over his face to shield it from the sun, Prompto noted as something fairly heavy was set on the bed next to him - finally making him open his eyes to take a peek. Loqi frowned down at the prince, having just placed a case on the sheets.

"Talk about looking like shit. Surprised no one's said anything,” the Commander murmured. Had Prompto been feeling better, he'd have retorted a sarcastic remark or joke back. Unfortunately he did neither; watching as Loqi retrieved an enhancer from the case. "Here." He shoved it towards Prompto, who sat up rather hastily to accept it. Six.. Anything to feel less like he was dying.

Uncapping it and gulping it down, he closed his eyes against the sensation it created: almost as if something was trying to burn him from the inside out. It passed though, and in its absence he certainly felt a lot better. Better enough to turn his attention to the remaining contents of the case. It was probably good he'd drunk that then, because the new sight would have been enough to send him rushing for the bathroom.

In the velvet case, was a gun. And not just any gun. Niflheim had developed a new weapon; a weapon that not only caused a disturbance in the Crystal’s power when activated, but also shot bullets that could quite literally tear someone's insides apart. Something to do with the daemons, but Prompto wasn't sure. He just stared at it.

That was the weapon he was supposed to use?

"Your orders are absolute. Dispose of the enemy prince using this weapon. Once in range, flick the safety off to activate the nullifier. He will be unable to warp, unable to call forth any of his powers. Shoot him. These bullets are enough to take down a behemoth. Once done, rendezvous with me and we'll be rid of this City." Loqi nodded, as if things were so simply said.

"It can't be detected by the surveillance here, but do try not to wave it around anywhere obvious. Find a discreet alley or something,” he concluded, shutting the lid on the case before moving to slide it under the bed. "Got it?"

No. He really didn't want to do any of that.

"Yeah, I got it. Shoot the prince, head back to Gralea, watch Niflheim tear this city apart. Piece of cake."

It wasn't.

Loqi seemed to be satisfied and thus left for his own room opposite. Leaving Prompto with the knowledge that the gun was mere inches away from him; practically taunting him even when it was out of sight.

Prompto didn't sleep much again that night; though the effects of the enhancer had him looking slightly less like shit by the morning. Getting up had been easier, despite the growing presence of the weapon under his bed. Almost mechanically, he managed to get himself dressed into the least Imperial-esque clothing he could find, before grabbing his phone and checking for any messages.

\--

Noctis rubbed his temples, his eyes closed against the tirade he was currently being subjected to. It was possible that waiting until the morning he was meant to go to the arcade with Prompto to tell Gladio hadn't been the best decision. Actually, he was just about positive if his Shield's reaction was any indication--spontaneous combustion was putting it mildly.

"And you," Gladio snarled, suddenly whirling on Ignis where the latter was standing in the entryway to Noctis's bathroom with an expression of detached disapproval. "I know you got some kinda weird fascination with this kid, but you're actually gonna let him go through with this?"

"It is a few hours at a public arcade," scoffed Ignis. If he were less of a professional, he definitely would have rolled his eyes. "That is hardly the location for an assassination attempt."

"How the hell do you know what these Niffs are thinking? They've got Insomnia by the neck--they can do whatever they want, and we can't do a damn thing to stop 'em."

"Then I suppose we are quite fortunate that you will be attending as the prince's Shield. After all, he would be safer in no one else's hands."

That brought Gladio up short, and he halted his pacing to glare daggers at Ignis. Noctis had to admit it was a good tactic, albeit a pretty cruel one. Keeping the Niffs in line and protecting Noctis was a hell of a burden to place on Gladio's shoulders; it wasn't one he hadn't been well aware of before, but given how terribly the interactions with Prompto he'd been privy to had gone, he had to be feeling the strain. It probably didn't help that Noctis had volunteered for this on his own.

Suddenly feeling a well of guilt open up in the pit of his stomach, Noctis rose to his feet and faced his Shield head on. "Gladio, it'll be fine. We'll go for a couple of hours and see what we can find out, then come straight back. They can't try anything in the middle of a crowd, not if they want to make it out of there alive."

That much was true enough. The population of Insomnia had made it clear: while they understood the unfortunate necessity of the treaty, they didn't like seeing Niffs roaming the city like they owned the place. If Prompto so much as sneezed in Noctis's general direction, he knew for sure that he'd get taken down no matter how effective a guard Loqi was.

Gladio must have recognized that too, because his scowl deepened after a moment and he jabbed his finger into Noctis's chest. "Fine, but you stay by me the whole time."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Noct," he growled. "You stick to me like glue or we're outta there."

Sighing, Noctis nodded wearily. Despite waking up feeling more refreshed than was normal recently, a whole new level of exhaustion was beginning to descend on him.

_This is gonna be one very long day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	10. Update

Hello everyone!

 

I’m sorry, but we won’t be continuing Royal Inconvenience. However! That doesn’t mean you guys can’t read awesome fiction by us; have a check of these fics below! (Also continue scrolling for how the story would have gone)

 

[Somnus Ultima - The_Asset6](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11423292)

**Sleeping Beauty FFXV AU**

King Regis and Queen Aulea’s desire for a child has finally been fulfilled, as well as their kingdom’s need for an heir to the throne. However, when a dark mage with a vendetta against Lucis blesses the young prince with a deadly curse, they realize that no sacrifice is too much when it comes to someone you love.

But too much, it turns out, is never enough.

 

 

[Gaman - The_Asset6](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11342898)  
  
( This fic will make you cry so much, but it's so worth it. - StylishChocobutt)  
  
They all knew what was waiting for them at the end of their journey. It didn’t make their fate any easier to stomach. Still, at the end of all things, at least they had each other.

**Gaman – enduring the seemingly unbearable with patience, restraint, and dignity**

 

[System (brief hiatus) - StylishChocobutt](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10694829/chapters/23686878)

***Note: Despite the discontinuation of Royal Inconvenience, it is not related to the fact I have placed System on hold for a short while, this fiction will continue. - StylishChocobutt**

When NH-01987 (MT!Prompto) is ordered to accompany Ardyn Izunia to Insomnia, he does as he is commanded. All is going seemingly well until a certain obnoxious Prince takes an interest in him. NH-01987 has a week at the Citadel before he's to be deployed elsewhere, and despite orders he can't help but explore.

AU where Prompto never escaped Niflheim and is Ardyn Izunia's personal MT unit for the trip to Insomnia.

[Drowned - StylishChocobutt](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10513641/chapters/23203164)

There are certainly better places than a -bridge- to encounter a Magitek Dropship. There's also certainly better weather to do so in than a storm. When what should have been an ordinary scuffle goes horrifically wrong and the Prince takes a tumble to the raging depths, Prompto rashly jumps in after him.

 

**More of TheAsset_6's fics as suggested by Roguehearted:**

[The Accursed's Madness](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10675863/chapters/23635458) \- ARDYN BACKSTORY YOU GUYS. Good, well thought out, and awesomely written Ardyn backstory.

[Off the Rails](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11146197/chapters/24868083) \- Sometimes when I'm at work I think about this one and then go and reread it because it's that awesome.

[Finding a Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10838724/chapters/24059514) \- For you Prompto lovers how about some cool behind the scenes info.

 

How the story would have gone:

This is the stuff we had planned out;

\- The day at the arcade goes well, with Prompto challenging Noct to one of the shooter games. Naturally, Prompto wins, and Gladio steps up (much to Prompto's terror) and challenges him to versus. Prompto wins. Noct tries to persuade his retainers to let him put his new carbuncle decal on the car; and is swiftly turned down.

\- They ride back to the Citadel.

\- On the steps, walking up to the citadel, Prompto is given a look by Loqi and realises he has no more time to play around. He asks Noct if they want to do the arcade again, and set a date to do so.

\- The following day Verstael tells Prompto he's to kill the prince, then meet up with Loqi and leave the City.

\- Noct wakes, though sleep was difficult, yet he pushes himself to go meet Prompto at the front of the Citadel.

\- They head to the arcade for a second time.

\- In the alley, Noct suggests that they should head to the diner first, but all Prompto can think about is the gun in his jacket.

\- Noct doesn't have time to react as Prompto switches the weapon on, immediately feeling the crushing effects of the crystals power being nullified.

\- Noct doesn't beg as Prompto rambles about having to do it, but he does try to persuade him that there's another way, that his father can help.

_"They're using you. Don't prove them right."_

\- Prompto gives up, drops the gun.

\- Whether it's exhaustion or relief, Noct falls to his knees and wraps his arms around Prompto's shoulders, thanking him for not taking his father's son away.

\- Ignis shows up.

\- Ignis swiftly takes note of what clearly happened, with the discarded gun, and suggests that the conversation best be moved elsewhere, lest there be a scene.

\- They return to the Citadel, and as Noct rests, Prompto explains the Empire's failed plan to Ignis.

 

 

This is as far as we got <3

**Author's Note:**

> Let us know what you think! <33  
> Totally want to hear opinions ;D


End file.
